Marcella dared not look over her.

There was a dignity about her mother's lightest action, about every movement of her slender fingers and fine fair head, which had always held the daughter in check, even while she rebelled.
Mrs.Boyce read it, and then handed it to Marcella.
"I must go and make the tea," she said, in a light, cold tone, and turning, she went back to the drawing-room, whither afternoon tea had just been carried.
Marcella followed, reading.

The note was from Miss Raeburn, and it contained an invitation to Mrs.Boyce and her daughter to take luncheon at the Court on the following Friday.

The note was courteously and kindly worded.

"We should be so glad," said the writer, "to show you and Miss Boyce our beautiful woods while they are still at their best, in the way of autumn colour." "How will mamma take it ?" thought Marcella anxiously.