"'Tain't his system that's working, let me tell you. It just happens."
Then after having had her say, the old woman dropped the subject to bustle about her kitchen and prepare a special supper for Bet and her chums, a thing she loved to do.
When Kit was led into the great entrance hall, she could only stare in amazement. It was as grand as she had imagined the palace of a king might be. The stained-glass windows that usually sent shafts of colored light across the floor, now gave a somber effect as of a dimly-lighted cathedral. A broad, winding stairway led to the floor above.
Kit stood in the center of the hall transfixed by what she saw. It was not the statue of Youth that held her attention. From a golden frame on the wall a face smiled down upon her and it was hard for the girl to believe that it was only a portrait. A fleeting smile seemed to play about the mouth, the delicately curved lips almost quivered and the brown eyes sparkled with joy.
Kit's hands instinctively went out toward the beautiful woman. She stood there smiling up at the portrait, and forgot the girls as they chattered about her.
Bet, who had been watching her closely, ran impulsively to her and threw both arms around the girl's neck.
"Oh you dear, darling thing! I knew you would! You love her already just the same as Shirley and Joy and I do."
"Who is she?" Kit's voice was hardly more than a whisper, she acted as if she had suddenly been brought back to earth after a flight in the clouds.
"It's our Lady of the Manor, Lady Betty Merriweather!"
"O--oh!" gasped Kit, without taking her eyes from the smiling eyes in the picture.
"Come along upstairs, Kit," called Joy as she took the steps two at a time. But the stranger felt that she was on sacred ground and could not have romped as Joy did. She lingered, looking up into the beautiful face.
"I feel just as if she wanted to say something to me," Kit said, as she reluctantly followed Bet.
"I think she does, probably. I know she tells _me_ things sometimes," replied Bet seriously. "I love to lie on that divan in the hall and watch her. And she tells me all about the good times they used to have in these very rooms." Bet had dreamed so often beneath the vivacious, smiling face that she had come to believe that Lady Betty really did talk to her.