John being fast at her stair-head.
"I particularly want you to know my dear friend--Miss Sanchia Percival--
Lady Maria Wenman. A great heart, Lady Maria, in a frame of steel."
"Oh, indeed," said Lady Maria. Then, "Come and sit with me, my dear; I've
heard about you. But I hope you've left your steels at home."
"If I had a trumpet," said good Mrs. Quantock, "instead of a penny
whistle, all the world should hear what I think of Sanchia."
"Then it's a very good thing you haven't," said Lady Maria. "The less
young ladies are trumpeted in public the better!"
Sanchia, during this interchange, had stood smiling and self-possessed;
but she was a little fluttered, and looked none the worse for that.
Without a word she obeyed the twinkling and puckered old lady, sat by her
on the sofa and awaited, her hands folded in her lap, what might be in
store for her. She liked the looks of Lady Maria, and had no disrelish for
her sharp tongue, nor fear of what might fall to her share when Mrs.
Quantock took herself off. She liked the little, deep-set, dark grey eyes,
the beaked nose, like the prow of a trireme, and the drawn-in mouth, which
seemed to be victim of the astringencies it was driven to utter.
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