en. And they were in a room such as Sally had never been in
before--a room entirely decorated in a sort of grey-blue. Wallpaper,
hangings, and chair-upholsterings were exactly uniform. The effect,
although beautiful and restful, was to Sally's eye so sumptuous that she
felt she must by some terrible mischance have come into a drawing-room.
But she heard the young woman say, "Yes, meddam.... I'll tell Madame
Gala.... Yes, meddam.... Yes, meddam ... quite ... yes, I quite....
_Good_ morning, meddam." And then as the wonderful creature disappeared
in a whirl of richness, like a fairy godmother, the tall young woman
turned almost pouncingly upon Sally, and in a contemptuous voice said
"Yes?"

Sally shook herself. It was the gesture of one who has been dreaming.

"I want to see Madame Gala," she said, very distinctly. "I've got a
letter for her from Mrs. Barrow."

"Where is it?" demanded the young woman. "That it?"

She took from Sally's unwilling but unresisting hand the letter which
Mrs. Perce had written, pulled it from the open envelope, read it, and
looked again at Sally.

"I want to _see_ Madame Gala," said Sally, stubbornly. Her little mouth
was now very savagely set, and if there had been any refusal upon the
young woman's part there would have been a scene.

"All right. Keep your hair on," said the inquisitive young woman. "Are
you Miss Minto?"

"Yes, I am." Sally nodded energetically, flushing. She wondered if the
word "hair"....

Her interlocutor turned, and went into an inner room, replacing the
letter as she did so, and folding over the flap, so that it would seem
as though she knew nothing of the contents. Sally quickly saw the kind
of person she was--an interfering creature, with "Miss Pry" written all
over her. She was tall and thin, and had gooseberry eyes and a small
nose and a large sycophantic mouth. Sally had a picture of her all the
time she was away--grey-blue dress and all. She didn't like her. She
hated her. She knew that they would never get on together. Miss Nosey!
"Yes, meddam; no, meddam ... yes, I _quite_...." Sally tried to
pronounce quite "quaite," as she had done. After all, she was only a
sort of maid--somebody to take the names of callers. She'd got no right
to be saucy. Old six-foot. Old match-legs. She'd got a nose in
everybody's business. Mind she didn't get it pulled!... But what a
lovely room! Must have cost pounds and pounds! All grey-blue--even to
the little ornaments on th