She lay in the deep sofa, covered with red damask, amid a bewildering softness of cushions and rugs, and wondered what Lady Anne was saying to Mamie.

Mamie was Mrs.Gray.From the first Mary had not called her Mother.

Her name was Matilda, and Mamie was a sort of compromise.
Meanwhile, Lady Anne had gone out by her garden, through the stable, and into the lane at the back.

There was a little door open in the opposite wall; beyond it was a shabby trellis with scarlet-runners clambering upon it.
Lady Anne peeped within.

A disheartened-looking woman was hanging a child's frock on the line which was stretched from wall to wall.