"You must be out of your mind, Mary," said the cook, sternly.
But Mary stuck to her assertion, and at last it was decided that Una was either out of _her_ mind, or that she was no lady.
"And that I am sure she is," exclaimed Mary, and the other servants assented heartily. "If there ever was a true lady, this one is, whoever or whatever she may be. Perhaps she's just come from boarding-school."
"Boarding-school!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Do you think they don't know the difference between mistress and servants there? It's the first thing that is taught them."
Meanwhile, quite unconscious of the discussion which her ingenuous conduct had caused, Una wandered about the room, examining, with unstinted curiosity, the exquisite china and valuable paintings, the Collard and Collard grand piano, and the handsomely-bound books.
An hour or two passed in this way; then she heard a bell ring and Mary entered, and, eying her shyly, said:
"Mistress says will you be kind enough to step up to her room, miss."
Una went upstairs and knocked at Mrs. Davenant's door, and in answer to the "come in," entered, and found Mrs. Davenant in the hands of her maid Jane.
Una crossed the room with her swift, light step, and kissed the face turned up to her with a timid, questioning smile on it.
"My child," exclaimed Mrs. Davenant, "have you been up all night? I sent Jane to your room to help you dress."
Una started, and a smile broke over her face.
"To help me dress?" she repeated, Jane regarding her with wide open eyes the while. "Why should she do that? I have always dressed myself ever since I can remember."
"I--meant to brush your hair and tie your ribbons--as she does mine; but it does not matter if you would rather not have her."
"I should not like to trouble her," said Una.
"And how long have you been up, my dear?"
Mrs. Davenant stared aghast, and Jane nearly dropped the hair-brush.
"Since five! My dear child! Ah! I see, you--you have been used to rising early. I am afraid you will soon lose that good habit. We Londoners don't rise with the lark."
"I don't think there are any larks here," remarked Una, gravely; "and at this time of the year the lark begins to sing at four. I have often watched him rise from his nest in the grass."