The awful gulf
which yawned between this South End location and the region where abode
those whom she counted her own kind socially, was apparent to her the
moment she arrived and looked about her. Fred Rangely had called, but
Mrs. Sampson had regaled her guest with such tales of his devotion to
Mrs. Staggchase that Miss Merrivale received him with much coldness,
and his call was not a success. Now she was impatiently waiting for the
appearance of Mrs. Staggchase, who, it did not occur to her to doubt,
would of course call. She was curious to see her relative, and her
fondness for Rangely, such as it was, was marvellously quickened by the
presence of a rival in the field. Instead of the appearance of Mrs.
Staggchase, however, came a note asking Miss Merrivale to dine, whereat
that young woman was angry, and her hostess, although she was too
clever to show it, was secretly furious.
This invitation was the result of a conversation between Mr. and Mrs.
Richard Staggchase, which had begun by that gentleman's asking his wife
at dinner when she was going to call upon Miss Merrivale.
"Not at all, my dear," Mrs. Staggchase answered, "as long as she is
visiting that dreadful Mrs. Sampson, I'm not sure, Fred, but that if I
had known that creature could claim a cousinship to you, I should have
refused to marry you."
"She is a dose," Mr.
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