A young girl stood gravely regarding them, one hand resting on the door handle, the other half extended to greet them. Mrs. Wharnecliffe caught her breath as she looked at her. She understood at once Miss Ward's anxiety concerning her. A slender slip of a girl she was, dressed in a rich blue woollen gown, which matched her eyes in intensity of colour. A string of turquoise beads hung round her neck nearly reaching her waist. She had a pale oval face with rather a pointed chin, and delicate features. Soft, reddish-brown hair fell softly over her broad low brow, and was gathered in a loose knot behind. Her blue eyes were fringed with very dark curling lashes, her mouth had sad curves at the corners. She was a picture of pathetic appealing youth, and Mrs. Wharnecliffe whispered under her breath: "What a darling child!" For an instant no one spoke, then the girl broke the silence. "How kind of you to come. I guess you are relations of Mr. Holt's. Miss Ward has told me of her fruitless journey to his house. Please sit down." Nothing could have exceeded the gravity of her manner. She seated herself lightly on the arm of an old horsehair couch opposite them, and slightly swung one slender foot to and fro. Mrs. Wharnecliffe began to feel less at ease than the girl herself. "I have come up to talk things over with you," said Thorold, clearing his throat. "What kind of things?" asked the girl softly. Mrs. Wharnecliffe looked sharply across at her. The grave intense blue eyes were now quivering with mirth. The woman of the world intervened quickly. She was not going to sit silent, and see her quixotic friend baited for a girl's amusement. "Mr. Holt has very kindly come up to see if he can help you in any way to make plans for the future. We hear you are very badly off, and your friend was bitterly disappointed to find that the one she relied upon to help you is dead. Both Mr. Holt and I knew your mother long ago, and we want to befriend her daughter." A faint rose colour came to the pale cheeks of the girl. She drew up her small head in a very haughty fashion, and all mirth died away. "Miss Ward brought the disappointment upon herself alone. It was against my wish she went to beg. I am making my own plans for the future and require no help from strangers, however kind." Thorold was about to speak, when Mrs. Wharnecliffe forestalled him. "That is good from your point of view. I wonder what you intend to do?" The girl did not appear to resent this question; she stopped swinging her foot, and clasping her hands lightly in front of her looked dreamily out of the window opposite her, across the chimney tops into the grey murky sky.