Lady of Spirit, A Read Online Free PDF

understand,” he said. “You have our gratitude—and sometime during your visit we hope to hear all that has passed in those five years, and before that.”
    “We will tell you as much as we can,” the Lady said, smiling. “Though Mr. Malvern and I will not be trespassing upon your hospitality for more than a few days—I am most anxious to see my mother and little brothers, so we will be sure to conclude our tale before we lift on Wednesday.”
    “Come, won’t you have some tea?” Grandmother waved toward the table set between the two sofas in front of the fire. “Howel, do put another log on the fire. I grow chilled when the flames are low.” The tea service was silver, the cups of porcelain so thin and delicate that Maggie could practically see the firelight through it.
    “What a pretty pattern,” she said as Grandmother poured and she took it upon herself to hand the cups around. “What flower is this?”
    “It is called a dogwood,” Grandmother said a little stiffly. “A tree that grows in the Fifteen Colonies, I understand.”
    “Ah, that explains why it is unfamiliar.” Maggie picked up the plate of sandwiches and offered the Lady one. “We have been in the Texican Territories and in the Canadas, but flowering trees were not a noticeable part of the landscape in either place.”
    “Elizabeth, what are your plans once your visit here is concluded?” Grandmother asked her.
    Maggie handed the plate to Tigg to hide her chagrin at the snub. What was wrong with talking about flowering plants? She would have thought that their travels would have been of keen interest to her grandparents, after what Grandfather had just said. Or that horticulture might be, at the very least, considering the glory of the gardens around the house. But what did she know of the conversational habits of older people in society? Other than the Dunsmuirs and Count von Zeppelin, and her teachers at the lycee , she had not been exposed to it much at all.
    Tigg took a sandwich and twinkled at her, as if to say, Cheer up. None of us belongs in a room sipping tea, do we?
    No, they certainly did not. In fact, she’d rather be exploring about this house, or down on the strand crossing the causeway to the Mount. Or better yet, going to Gwynn Place with the Lady to visit Polgarth and the chickens.
    She had been corresponding with Lewis over the last year or two on the subject of genetics in connection with their hen Rosie, of dearly beloved memory. It was Lewis’s opinion that temperament and intelligence could be emphasized in a breeding program just as much as feathering and laying capacity, and if Holly and Ivy were any indication, Rosie’s chicks seemed to bear this out. She wanted to discuss it with Polgarth, whose scientific breeding of the Buff Orpingtons at Gwynn Place was said to be legendary in this part of the country.
    Perhaps that was what she ought to do—leave Lizzie here with Claude and Tigg and the grands, and go with the Lady.
    A woman in a housekeeper’s navy dress appeared in the doorway. “Excuse me, ma’am, but the footman wishes to know what is to be done with the poultry in the hall. It seems to have come in with the young ladies instead of going round to the kitchen.” A squawk of alarm sounded from the front of the house. “I was not aware that you had changed the menus since this morning, ma’am. Did you order chicken for dinner?”
    “No!” Maggie shot off the sofa, upending her teacup onto the carpet and staining the front of her skirt. “Holly and Ivy are not to be dinner! They are our companions.”
    Lizzie put down her cup and vanished out the door past the housekeeper, and presently her voice joined the indignant tones of Holly and Ivy, dressing down the unfortunate footman.
    Slowly, Grandmother raised the quizzing glass on its chain about her neck to survey the chaos.
    “Margaret, pick up your cup. Mrs. Penny, would you send in the maid to clean up this mess?”
    “I am sorry for the