Lady Wolfer led Nell to her ladyship's own room. It was as unlike a
boudoir as it well could be; for the furniture was of the simplest kind,
and in place of the elegant trifles with which the fair sex usually
delight to surround themselves, the tables, the couch, and even the
chairs were littered with solid-looking volumes, blue books, pamphlets,
and sheets of manuscript paper.

There was a piano, it is true; but its top was loaded with handbills and
posters announcing meetings, and the dust lay thick on its lid. The
writing table was better suited to an office than a lady's "own room,"
and it was strewn with the prevailing litter.

Lady Wolfer cleared a chair by sweeping the books from it, and gently
pushed Nell into it.

"Now, you sit down for a moment while I ring for a maid to take you to
your room. Heaven only knows where it is, or in what condition you will
find it! You see, I quite forgot you were coming. Candid, isn't it? But
I'm always candid, and I begin at once with you. By the way, oughtn't
you to have come earlier--or later?"

Nell explained that she had had her breakfast at the station, and spent
an hour in the waiting room, so as not to present herself too early.

"How thoughtful of you!" said Lady Wolfer. "You don't look--you look so
young and--girlish."