And then she started, having first said another word or two about the Crawley children, and obtained a promise of Puck and the pony-carriage for the afternoon. It was also almost agreed that Puck on his return to Framley should bring back the four children with him; but on this subject it was necessary that Mark should be consulted. The present scheme was to prepare for them a room outside the house, once the dairy, at present occupied by the groom and his wife; and to bring them into the house as soon as it was manifest that there was no danger from infection. But all this was to be matter for deliberation. Fanny wanted her to send over a note, in reply to Lady Lufton’s, as harbinger of her coming; but Lucy marched off, hardly answering this proposition. “What’s the use of such a deal of ceremony?” she said. “I know she’s at home; and if she is not, I shall only lose ten minutes in going.” And so she went, and on reaching the door of Framley Court house found that her ladyship was at home. Her heart almost came to her mouth as she was told so, and then, in two minutes’ time, she found herself in the little room upstairs. In that little room we found ourselves once before,—you, and I, O my reader;—but Lucy had never before visited that hallowed precinct. There was something in its air calculated to inspire awe in those who first saw Lady Lufton sitting bolt upright in the cane-bottomed arm-chair, which she always occupied when at work at her books and papers; and this she knew when she determined to receive Lucy in that apartment. But there was there another arm-chair, an easy, cozy chair, which stood by the fireside; and for those who had caught Lady Lufton napping in that chair of an afternoon, some of this awe had perhaps been dissipated. “Miss Robarts,” she said, not rising from her chair, but holding out her hand to her visitor; “I am much obliged to you for having come over to me here. You, no doubt, are aware of the subject on which I wish to speak to you, and will agree with me that it is better that we should meet here than over at the parsonage.” In answer to which Lucy merely bowed her head, and took her seat on the chair which had been prepared for her. “My son,” continued her ladyship, “has spoken to me on the subject of—I think I understand, Miss Robarts, that there has been no engagement between you and him?” “None whatever,” said Lucy. “He made me an offer and I refused him.” This she said very sharply;—more so undoubtedly than the circumstances required; and with a brusqueness that was injudicious as well as uncourteous. But at the moment, she was thinking of her own position with reference to Lady Lufton—not to Lord Lufton; and of her feelings with reference to the lady—not to the gentleman. “Oh,” said Lady Lufton, a little startled by the manner of the communication. “Then I am to understand that there is nothing now going on between you and my son;—that the whole affair is over?” “That depends entirely upon you.”