The two occupants of the room looked at Gentian rather critically as she approached them. She wore her close-fitting motor-cap, and a long white linen coat fell down to her slim ankles. She might have been a stripling of a boy, so neat, and taut, and severe was her attire. The eldest Miss Buchan spoke to her first, and Gentian's expressive face kindled under her friendly look. Miss Anne Buchan was a handsome old woman with dark eyes and white hair, and an extreme air of fragility. She looked like some hothouse flower that had never been exposed to any fresh breezes or pure air. She was slight in build and rather tall, and stooped as she walked. Miss Horatia was younger, with a rugged tanned face and big blue eyes, and a humorous mouth. She was standing in the window mending a hunting crop and whistling as she did so. Whilst Miss Anne was clothed in rich satin gown with priceless lace about her neck, Miss Horatia was in a white shirt and rough tweed skirt, with two big pockets, which held contents that schoolboys would have envied. "And so this is my lady chauffeur," said Miss Anne pleasantly, as she shook hands with Gentian. "You seem very young for the post, but youth is to the fore now. It is we old people who are needed no longer." "Not to give us advice, and remind us of the good old days which have gone for ever?" said Gentian with her mischievous smile. "Ah, I wonder if you will take advice from anyone!" Miss Anne responded. Miss Horatia looked sharply up from her employment. "How d'ye do?" she said brusquely. "What's your name?" "Gentian Brendon." "Oh, these new-fangled names; who chose that for you?" "Do you mean Gentian? My mother. When I was a baby. I had eyes that reminded her of the flower." "And they're the same now," said gentle Miss Anne. "Sit down, child. Now, Lallie, how are you?" For the next few minutes Gentian sat and listened to the conversation which followed, and in which she felt she had no part. Miss Horatia said very little; occasionally she put in a word. Presently she turned to Gentian and said suddenly: "Do you realize that you and I are representatives of two centuries?" "But you are not very old?" "I am old in my habits, in my love for God's creatures instead of men's. Don't expect me to set foot in your snorting bit of machinery. When my horse and I part company, my life will be done. And when I'm too old to sit in a saddle, I shall go straight to bed and stop there—" "I should like to ride," said Gentian a little wistfully; "but cars are cheaper than horses, and swifter." Miss Horatia said no more. Mrs. Wharnecliffe did not make a long stay. Miss Anne discussed everything with Gentian. She told her she would like her to come every afternoon and take her out, Sundays excepted, and the salary she mentioned more than satisfied Gentian. She came away in the highest spirits and thanked Mrs. Wharnecliffe very warmly for having obtained the post for her.