“Lady Pell—here’s her card—is desirous of an interview with one, or both of the Misses Thursby on a matter of business, and the footman is waiting at the door for an answer,” she exclaimed in a breath. “I never heard her name before—did you, sister? and what can the business be she wants to see us about?” “That is a question I am no more able to answer than you are,” responded Miss Matilda, who was not so readily flustered as Miss Jane; “but a few minutes will doubtless serve to enlighten us. Will you send word by the man that both of us are at home and shall be pleased to see her ladyship. I will follow you downstairs in a couple of minutes.” When, three minutes later, Lady Pell entered the little sitting-room the sisters saw before them a woman considerably taller than either of themselves; thin, but not unusually so, and carrying herself with an uprightness that would have done credit to a grenadier. In age she might be anything between sixty and seventy. She had Roman features of a pronounced type which time had served to accentuate, so that it was now difficult to realise that she had ever been accounted handsome. There had always been a certain masculine element about her, more seeming, perhaps, than real, which was not lessened by a faint suspicion of a moustache which, in certain lights, could be seen to shade her upper lip. She was richly but soberly dressed, as became a person who in her day had filled the distinguished position of London’s Lady Mayoress. “My card will have told you who I am,” she began, addressing herself smilingly to Miss Matilda, who was wearing the heavy gold chain which marked her as occupying for the time the position of elder sister. “For the present I am staying with my friends at Foljambe Court, and my business here is to see you with reference to Vale View House, which is to let, and which, I am told, is your property. I was directed in the first instance to a house agent’s in the town, but I prefer to deal with principals whenever I find it possible to do so.” All this was spoken rapidly in the clear staccato tones of one who was in the habit of making herself heard in whatsoever company she might be. “Will you not be seated?” It was Miss Matilda’s soft voice, in marked contrast to Lady Pell’s, which preferred the request. Lady Pell sat down on the nearest chair, while the sisters seated themselves side by side on the sofa opposite her. “It’s not for myself that I’m looking for a house,” she resumed, “but for my stepdaughter, Mrs. Loftus, who has been ordered by her physician to exchange the air of London for seven or eight months of the year for that of the country. I had a glimpse of Vale View—there’s not much of it can be seen from the road—when I was out driving the other day, and it seemed to me just the kind of place Amelia is in want of. By the way, I have not yet inquired as to the rent—a point,” she smilingly added, “which is usually regarded as one of paramount importance.”