She linked her arm confidingly in that of Mrs. Spruce, who for once was too much astonished to speak,--Miss Vancourt was so entirely different to the chill and reserved personage her imagination had depicted, that she was quite at a loss how to look or what to say.
"Is this the way?" asked Maryllia, stepping lightly past the stuffed knight in armour; "Yes? I thought it was! I begin to remember everything now! Oh, how I wish I had never gone away from this dear old home!"
She entered the morning-room, guiding Mrs. Spruce, rather than being guided by her,--for as that worthy woman averred to Primmins at supper that self-same night: "I was so all in a tremble and puspration with 'er 'oldin' on to my arm and takin' me round, that I was like the man in the Testymen what had dumb devils,--and scarcely knew what ground my feet was a-fallin' on!" The cheerful air of welcome which pervaded this charming, sunny apartment, with its lattice windows fronting the wide stretch of velvety lawn, terrace and park-land, delighted Maryllia, and she loosened her hold on Mrs. Spruce's arm with a little cry of pleasure, as a huge magnificently coated Newfoundland dog rose from his recumbent position near the window, and came to greet her with slow and expansive waggings of his great plumy tail.
"Plato, my beauty!" she exclaimed; "How do you like Abbot's Manor, boy? Eh? Quite at home, aren't you! Good dog! Isn't he a king of dogs?" And she turned her smiling face on Mrs. Spruce. "A real king! I bought him because he was so big! Weren't you frightened when you saw such a monster?--and didn't you think he would bite everybody on the least provocation? But he wouldn't, you know! He's a perfect darling--as gentle as a lamb! He would kill anyone that wanted to hurt me--oh, yes of course!--that's why I love him!"
And she patted the enormous creature's broad head tenderly.
"He's my only true friend!" she continued; "Money wouldn't buy HIS fidelity!" Here, glancing at Mrs. Spruce, she laughed merrily. "Dear Mrs. Spruce! You DO look so uncomfortable!--so--so warm! It IS warm, isn't it? Make me some tea!--tea cools one, they say, though it's hot to drink at first. We'll talk afterwards!"
Mrs. Spruce, with inaudible murmurings, hastened to the tea-tray, and tried to compose her agitated nerves by bringing her attention to bear on the silver tea-kettle which Primmins had just brought in, and in which the water was beginning to bubble, in obedience to the newly-kindled flame of the spirit-lamp beneath.