"Well, really, Miss Pearce," began the voice, but Nurse appeared
on the scene so promptly that one might have suspected her of
being all the time within hearing distance. Edith scuttled into
the drawing-room, just avoiding a very large, over-dressed person,
who came ponderously down the stairs, a moppy white dog festooned
over one arm. Her face was red and perspiring and she seemed to be
indignantly struggling with feelings too strong for words. Edith
could not suppress a stifled laugh as she was ushered from the
house in Nurse's grandest manner.

Emerging from her refuge, Edith saw Estelle on the landing, her
face pale except for a tiny red spot on either cheek, her eyes
unnaturally bright.

"My word, Star!" said Edith, giggling, "didn't you get rid of her
finely? What a fearful person!"

"She was impossible," said Estelle. "Oh, Nurse," she exclaimed
impetuously, seeing the old family servant still lingering in the
hall, "do you suppose only people like that will want lodgings?"

"No, indeed, my lamb," replied Nurse, casting a glance of
satisfaction after the cab disappearing from the terrace. "Don't
you fret, Miss Star, and don't you take the first people who come.
Just bide your time, and there'll be some quality who will be what
you ought to have."

"Mr. Angus thought Americans might be rather desirable," said
Estelle hesitatingly. To prepare Nurse for such a possibility
might be wise.