Instead, however, of seating herself
to write, she stood by the table, absently looking down at the
morsel of paper.
A strange fancy had sprung to life in her mind on re-entering the
room; she herself smiled faintly at the extravagance of it. What
if she were to ask Lady Janet Roy to let her supply Miss
Roseberry's place? She had met with Miss Roseberry under critical
circumstances, and she had done for her all that one woman could
do to help another. There was in this circumstance some little
claim to notice, perhaps, if Lady Janet had no other companion
and reader in view. Suppose she ventured to plead her own
cause--what would the noble and merciful lady do? She would write
back, and say, "Send me references to your character, and I will
see what can be done." Her character! Her references! Mercy
laughed bitterly, and sat down to write in the fewest words all
that was needed from her--a plain statement of the facts.
No! Not a line could she put on the paper. That fancy of hers was
not to be dismissed at will. Her mind was perversely busy now
with an imaginative picture of the beauty of Mablethorpe House
and the comfort and elegance of the life that was led there.
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