“I’ll see if Lady Ambermere has come in, Mrs. Lucas,” she said. “She may have come in. Just out in the garden, you know. Might like to know what you’ve brought. O dear me!” Poor Miss Lyall scuttled away, and presently the door of the pink saloon was thrown open. After an impressive pause Lady Ambermere appeared, looking vexed. The purport of this astounding mission had evidently been conveyed to her. “Mrs. Lucas, I believe,” she said, just as if she wasn’t sure. Now Lucia after all her Duchesses was not going to stand that. Lady Ambermere might have a Roman nose, but she hadn’t any manners. “Lady Ambermere, I presume,” she retorted. So there they were. Lady Ambermere glared at her in a way that should have turned her to stone. It made no impression. “You have come, I believe, with a message from the Committee of your little Museum at Riseholme, which I may have misunderstood.” Lucia knew she was doing what neither Mrs. Boucher nor Daisy in their most courageous moments would have dared to do. As for Georgie.... “No, Lady Ambermere,” she said. “I don’t think you’ve misunderstood it. A stuffed dog on a cushion. They felt that the Museum was not quite the place for it. I have brought it back to you with their thanks and regrets. So kind of you and--and so sorry of them. This is the parcel. That is all, I think.” It wasn’t quite all.... “Are you aware, Mrs. Lucas,” said Lady Ambermere, “that the mittens of the late Queen Charlotte are my loan to your little Museum?” Lucia put her finger to her forehead. “Mittens?” she said. “Yes, I believe there are some mittens. I think I have seen them. No doubt those are the ones. Yes?” That was brilliant: it implied complete indifference on the part of the Committee (to which Lucia felt sure she would presently belong) as to what Lady Ambermere might think fit to do about mittens. “The Committee shall hear from me,” said Lady Ambermere, and walked majestically back to the pink saloon. Lucia felt sorry for Miss Lyall: Miss Lyall would probably not have a very pleasant day, but she had no real apprehensions, so she explained to the Committee, who were anxiously awaiting her return on the Green, about the withdrawal of these worsted relics. “Bluff, just bluff,” she said. “And even if it wasn’t---- Surely, dear Daisy, it’s better to have no mittens and no Pug than both. Pug--I caught a peep of him through a hole in the brown paper--Pug would have made your Museum a laughing-stock.” “Was she very dreadful?” asked Georgie. Lucia gave her little silvery laugh. “Yes, dear Georgie, quite dreadful. You would have collapsed if she had said to you ‘Mr. Pillson, I believe.’ Wouldn’t you, Georgie? Don’t pretend to be braver than you are.”