The room was brilliantly lighted and seemed full
of colour and people who were laughing. There were pretty things
crowding each other everywhere, and there were flowers on all sides.
The Lady Downstairs, in a sheathlike sparkling dress, and only
a glittering strap seeming to hold it on over her fair undressed
shoulders, was talking to a tall thin man standing before the
fireplace with a gold cup of coffee in his hand.
As the little thing strayed in, with her rather rigid attendant
behind her, suddenly the laughing ceased and everybody involuntarily
drew a half startled breath--everybody but the tall thin man, who
quietly turned and set his coffee cup down on the mantel piece
behind him.
"Is THIS what you have been keeping up your sleeve!" said Harrowby,
settling his pince nez.
"I told you!" said the Starling.
"You couldn't tell us," Vesey's veiled voice dropped in softly.
"It must be seen to be believed. But still--" aside to Feather,
"I don't believe it."
"Enter, my only child!" said Feather. "Come here, Robin. Come to
your mother."
Now was the time! Robin went to her and took hold of a very small
piece of her sparkling dress.
"ARE you my Mother?" she said. And then everybody burst into a
peal of laughter, Feather with the rest.
"She calls me the Lady Downstairs," she said. "I really believe
she doesn't know. She's rather a stupid little thing.
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