If a stranger had been told that those two had played their parts in a romance of real life--that one of them was really connected by the ties of relationship with Lady Janet Roy, and that the other had successfully attempted to personate her--he would inevitably, if it had been left to him to guess which was which, have picked out Grace as the counterfeit and Mercy as the true woman.
Grace broke the silence.

She had waited to open her lips until she had eyed her conquered victim all over, with disdainfully minute attention, from head to foot.
"Stand there.

I like to look at you," she said, speaking with a spiteful relish of her own cruel words.

"It's no use fainting this time.

You have not got Lady Janet Roy to bring you to.