The Real Lady Hilda by B.M. Croker

I let myself in with a latchkey-Mr. Gabb's own particular key-and crept stealthily up-stairs, hoping that Emma was asleep, and that I could thus sneak past her door unheard; but no: she was evidently on the watch for my return, and called out to me to come into her room, desiring me to "turn up the lamp, take off my cloak, and tell her all about it!"

I obediently sat down on a low chair facing her, and began to describe everything to the best of my power; the drive, the arrival, the lovely old house, the crowds, the dresses, and how Mrs. Cholmondeley had singled me out and introduced me to partners.