"I do not know what she told you; but this is certainly Leonora West," reiterated the maid; and then her mistress stepped over the threshold into the room, the long train of her stiff brocade rustling behind her as she walked with an air of withering majesty upon her wrinkled face. Leonora, hearing the ominous sound, glanced around with a startled air, her hands fell from the keys, and she sprung to her feet, and stood waiting the lady's approach--not humbly, not nervously, but with that calm dignity and self-possession that seemed characteristic of her, and that seemed to belong peculiarly to her as fragrance belongs to a flower. Lady Lancaster was not propitiated by that peculiar air. To her angry eyes it savored of defiance. She walked on across the thick, soft pile of the velvet carpet until she was directly in front of the waiting girl, and then Leonora lifted her eyes with an air of gentle curiosity, and dropped her a graceful courtesy. "Impertinent! I have a great mind to slap her, anyhow!" the old lady said, irately, to herself; but she kept down her spleen with a great effort of will, and said, with ironical politeness: "You are Leonora West, the housekeeper's niece, I presume?" "Yes, madame, that is my name," Leonora answered, with another graceful bow. "And you are--Mrs. Lancaster!" "Lady Lancaster, if you please," flashed the dowager, haughtily. "Ah?" smoothly. "Lady Lancaster, I beg your pardon. You see we have no titles in America. A plain Mrs. is a title of honor in itself, and when one comes to England one is apt to forget the requirements of rank." A graceful, simple explanation enough; but Elise, who kept close beside her mistress, saw a roguish gleam in the blue-gray eyes shaded by the drooping black lashes. "She is laughing in her sleeve at my lady," thought the astute maid; but she did not resent the girlish impertinence in her mind. Lady Lancaster snubbed her handmaid so often that Elise rather enjoyed seeing her snubbed in her turn. Lady Lancaster dimly felt something in the suave, silver-sweet tones that vaguely angered her. "You are very excusable, Miss West," she said, tartly and insultingly. "One has to pardon much to American impudence and ignorance." Leonora looked at her with the full gaze of her clear orbs. "I hardly think I understand you, Lady Lancaster," said she, calmly. "I fail to make my meaning clear, do I?" cried the dowager, furious. "Tell me this, then. How dared you come into my drawing-room and play on the piano?" "Your drawing-room?" the girl lifted her eyes in gentle, courteous inquiry. "Lord Lancaster's, then; and just as good as mine, since he is too poor to live at home. But that is no concern of yours. I repeat--how dared you play on the piano?" Leonora looked very innocent and wondering and candid. "I assure you I have not injured the piano one bit," she said. "It is a very nice one; but I understand how to use it, and my touch is very soft."