The villa was less of a villa and more of a mansion than even I had
imagined. There was a wide entrance hall, and an open roof overhead,
and a square well-staircase, which opened on to galleries which led to
the bedrooms. The spring light had nearly faded when I arrived at the
house, but the soft and cheerful blaze of coloured lamps gave the
brightest and most picturesque effect. There were flowers everywhere,
and vistas of pretty things from open doorways, and little peeps of wide
conservatories, and a distant faint clatter of glasses and silver in the
far-off dining-room.
Mr Gray came out himself to bid me welcome. He was followed by his
wife and two daughters, Nettie and Tottie. Nettie and Tottie were round
and fat and fair and insignificant-looking. Mrs Gray was also round
and fat, but she had a matronly dignity about her, and a comfortable,
homely manner which made me take to her at once.
After Mr Gray had shaken me warmly by both my hands, Mrs Gray kissed
me, and Nettie and Tottie came up, each to one side of me, and in this
manner I was conveyed across the hall, and into a cheerful little
boudoir, where three anxious women's voices pressed hot tea and buttered
cakes on my notice.
I drank my tea and ate hot muffins, and felt that the pleasant and
luxurious surroundings of my present habitation suited me uncommonly
well. After staring at me for half a minute Tottie made an abrupt
observation.
"Two or three people are coming to dinner," she said; "only gentlemen,
however, friends of papa's."
"Oh, Tottie!" exclaimed Nettie, giving her sister a knowing look.
"Friends of papa's indeed! What next? Are they _all_ only papa's
friend's?"
Tottie shrugged her shoulders--she looked pleased and conscious--perhaps
she expected me to quiz her; but that was not at all the kind of thing I
felt capable of doing.
"Some gentlemen are coming to dinner," resumed Tottie, after an
expectant pause, "so perhaps you would like to come up to your room in
good time to dress, Miss Lindley?"