Her colour was very bright, her eyes a little absent and wild.

The two ladies, both clad in pale brown stuffs, large mushroom hats, and stout country boots, eyed her nervously, and as they sat down, at her bidding, they left the Archdeacon--who was the vicar of the neighbouring town--to explain, with much amiable stammering, that seeing the Duchess's carriage at the front door, as they were crossing the park, they presumed that visitors were admitted, and had ventured to call.
Daphne received the explanation without any cordiality.

She did indeed bid the callers sit down, and ordered some fresh tea.

But she took no pains to entertain them, and if Lady Barnes and Herbert French had not come to the rescue, they would have fared but ill.

The Archdeacon, in fact, did come to grief.