“But don’t you think it is only a duty?” said Lady Curtis. She wanted to be persuaded that she ought to go--not to go merely because she was curious, which was the real reason; but when Lucy returned no further answer, her mother, making use of her own impatience of temper as a reason for doing what she wanted, turned sharp round with a little show of annoyance at Lucy, and went straight across to the cottage door. Cousin Julia saw her, and almost clapped her hands with pleasure, as she lurked behind the curtains and watched; and the two people in the Wren Cottage, who had been watching also from their windows since they came in, saw her too, and prepared for the visit with excitement indescribable. Lady Curtis’s movements were so rapid that she had knocked at the door, and Matilda had opened, before Nancy, who was standing behind, had got over her first breathless start of agitation and suspicion. She was standing, leaning forward a little, her hands clasped, her lips apart and panting with excitement, when the visitors saw her first. Lady Curtis was in a little glow of pleasure and interest. “I had heard of Mrs. Arthur as a new neighbour,” she said; “I hope I may come in and pay my respects, though it is getting late.” “Oh, come in, come in, my lady;” cried Matilda, officiously hastening to place chairs for the great ladies. Matilda’s heart was not leaping so in her breast that she thought it must escape altogether--but Nancy’s was, as she felt herself suddenly in the presence of these two ladies, with whom her own fate was so closely connected. She held her heart with her hand, that it might not leap out of her throat, and made a gasp for breath, and could say nothing; and it was no wonder if Lady Curtis was flattered by the impression made by her visit, and thought she had never seen so expressive a face before. “My sister will be very pleased to make your ladyship’s acquaintance,” said Matilda. “What a fine day, and what a blessing after the wet! We were beginning to think it never would be fine again. Anna! don’t you see my lady--and haven’t you got a word to say?” “It is very kind of Lady Curtis to come,” said Nancy, with difficulty. She could not withdraw her eyes from the two. And Lucy looked at her from behind her mother with again a thrill of wonder and suspicion. Why was she so much agitated? what was there to be agitated about? “I hope you like our village,” said Lady Curtis; “very few people see it, except the people of the place, so it is not admired so much as it ought to be, we think. It is a pretty village; but I trust you may not find it very dull as the winter goes on.” “Oh, we do not look for much; we are used to living very quietly--”