While this was going on upstairs, Lady Randolph led Lucy into Mrs. Ford’s sitting-room, “as if it had been her own,” that excellent woman said, though she was very willing, on the whole, that her parlor should be made use of, and indeed, for long after took special care of the chair upon which Lady Randolph had sat down. Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Stone followed. There was a pause after they had all seated themselves, for these two other personages were somewhat jealous in their eagerness to hear every syllable that fell from Lady Randolph’s lips, and Lady Randolph studiously ignored them. It was she who for the moment was mistress of the situation; she put Lucy tenderly upon the sofa, and drew a chair close to it. “You are doing too much,” she said; “after all the excitement and grief you want rest, or we shall have you ill on our hands.” “That is what I am always telling her, my lady,” said Mrs Ford. Mrs. Stone smiled. “Lucy will not get ill,” she said, “her strength is intact; I don’t think Lady Randolph need have any fear on that account.” But Mrs. Stone’s interference was not relished by any one. Lady Randolph glanced slightly at her but took no notice; while Mrs. Ford was somewhat irritated that Lucy should be thought robust and able to bear a great sorrow without suffering. They were all very anxious to persuade the girl to “put up her feet,” and take care of herself. “A change, an entire change is what you want,” Lady Randolph said, “and indeed I think that is what we must do. It does not matter if you are not prepared; of course you will want a great many things, but they can be got better in London than anywhere else. I should like you to come with me at once.” Lucy, who had been half reclining on the sofa cushions to please her new friend, here raised herself with an energy which was not at all in keeping with her supposed exhaustion. “At once!” she said with alarm, not perceiving at the moment that this was not complimentary to Lady Randolph. When she perceived it, Lucy’s politeness was put to a severe test. She had a little awe of her future guardian, and she was very dutiful, more disposed by nature to do what she was told than to rebel. She added faintly a gentle remonstrance. “I thought there would have been a little time to get ready; the dress-maker has only sent a few of the things; and then,” she said, as if the argument was final, “we have had no time at all to get Jock’s things in order. I would have to wait for Jock.” “Jock!” said Lady Randolph, with the greatest surprise.