The footman still lingered. "She looks such a rough one," said he.

     "Go!" ejaculated Miss Ingram, and the man went.

     Excitement instantly seized the whole party: a running fire of raillery and jests was proceeding when Sam returned.

     "She won't come now," said he. "She says it's not her mission to appear before the 'vulgar herd' (them's her words). I must show her into a room by herself, and then those who wish to consult her must go to her one by one."

     "You see now, my queenly Blanche," began Lady Ingram, "she encroaches. Be advised, my angel girl--and--"

     "Show her into the library, of course," cut in the "angel girl." "It is not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd either: I mean to have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the library?"

     "Yes, ma'am--but she looks such a tinkler."

     "Cease that chatter, blockhead! and do my bidding."

     Again Sam vanished; and mystery, animation, expectation rose to full flow once more.