CHAPTER II
"EVERYTHING in order, Mary?" asked Mrs. Martin, entering the room intended for Priscilla and looking about casually.
"Yes, madame; I think so."
"Have some flowers on the dressing-table."
"Very well, Mrs. Martin. Are you driving to the station to meet Miss Priscilla?" she continued, with the privilege of an old servant.
"No, oh, no! I've sent James for her. We'll have tea in my dressing-room when she comes, Mary."
"Very well."
Mrs. Martin wandered about aimlessly, rearranging things absent-mindedly, and finally went back to her own part of the house. She was restless; the absurd real-
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