After all, as Lady Anne said, despite her greatness she was very lonely.

She had lost her son and her grandson, and she could not endure her nephew or his family.
She had only a few old cronies.

As a matter of fact, although she had taken a fancy to Mary Gray and captured the child's susceptible heart, she was not a particularly amiable or lovable old lady to the rest of the world.

She was too keen-sighted and sharp-tongued to be popular.
Mary slept that night in such a room as she had never dreamt of.

There was a little bed in the corner of it with a flowing veil of white, lace-trimmed muslin like a baby's cot.