"I believe they think she's a vulgar, fussy old thing like Agnes Gale's
aunt," I said to myself; "never fit to be seen till the afternoon."
"It won't disturb her at all," I said. "Mamma is never very busy."
And just as I spoke I heard her voice from the drawing-room.
"Connie dear," it said, "where are you, and what's the matter with the
drawing-room?" Oh, how glad I was that she said that! "Benjamin said
some one wanted me;" and then catching sight of figures in the
conservatory, in mamma came.
They started a little, and no wonder that they were surprised. Thanks
to me, they had small reason to expect much in Mrs Percy. Never in all
my life did I feel prouder of mamma, or more grateful for her unfailing
sweet temper. Just think--many a mother in such a case would have come
through the drawing-room scolding for finding it in such a mess; her
voice would have been heard sharp and angry before she was seen. And
many, even sweet-tempered women, would have been upset and flurried.
Not so my dear little mother. She came in looking so sweet, and so neat
and pretty--with just a little half-smile of amusement on her face.
"What is the matter, Connie dear?" she repeated, and then she caught
sight of the strangers.