And she was equally prepared to give it.
In some inexplicable manner her attitude of mind conveyed itself to Nan, and the latter was rebelliously conscious of the older woman's efforts to dominate her.

It came as an inexpressible relief when at last their tete-a-tete was interrupted.
Through the closed door Nan could hear Roger's voice.

He was evidently engaged in cheerful conversation with someone in the hall outside--a woman, from the light trill of laughter which came in response to some remark of his--and a moment later the door opened and Nan could see his head and shoulders towering above those of the woman who preceded him into the room.
"Isobel, my dear!" For the first time since the beginning of their interview Nan heard Lady Gertrude's voice soften to a more human note.

Turning to Nan she continued, still in the same affectionate tone of voice: "This is my niece, Isobel Carson--though she is really more like a daughter to me." "So it looks as though we shall be sisters!" put in the newcomer lightly.

"Really"-- with a quick, bird-like glance, that included everyone in the room--"our relationships will get rather mixed up, won't they ?" She held out a rather claw-like little hand for Nan to shake, and the unexpectedly tense and energetic grip of it was somewhat surprising.
She was a small, dark creature with bright, restless brown eyes set in a somewhat sallow face--its sallowness the result of several husband-hunting years spent in India, where her father had held a post in the Indian Civil Service.
It was one of those rather incomprehensible happenings of life that she had been left still blooming on her virgin stem.