She moved slowly across the room to the place at which Lady Janet was sitting, and addressed her respectfully with perfect self-possession of manner.

Her whole demeanor, from the moment when she had appeared at the door, had expressed--at once plainly and becomingly--confidence in the reception that awaited her.
"Almost the last words my father said to me on his death-bed," she began, "were words, madam, which told me to expect protection and kindness from you." It was not Lady Janet's business to speak.

She listened with the blandest attention.

She waited with the most exasperating silence to hear more.
Grace Roseberry drew back a step--not intimidated--only mortified and surprised.

"Was my father wrong ?" she asked, with a simple dignity of tone and manner which forced Lady Janet to abandon her policy of silence, in spite of herself.
"Who was your father ?" she asked, coldly.
Grace Roseberry answered the question in a tone of stern surprise.
"Has the servant not given you my card ?" she said.