You are no lady.  You actually grew up in a poor section of Boston and headed South with your carpetbagger husband during post-war Reconstruction.  When he died in a bar brawl, you used his meager savings to open a bordello and became one of the most notorious madams in Atlanta.  Once you had enough money to live well, you moved to New Orleans, passed yourself off as a plantation owner's daughter, and became respectable.  Your income is still supplied by the brothel.

You know Mrs. White, but she doesn't recognize you (possibly because you have lost about 150 pounds since you last saw each other).  She was one of the most successful prostitutes in your house ten years ago, before she fled the country, leaving a dead client behind her.  You don't know what history she has invented for herself, but it seems safest to keep your own identity concealed.