Mabin looked idly out of the window, and craned her neck to see if she could catch a glimpse of the sea. But this was the north side of the house, and the sea was on the southwest; so she failed. But as she looked out, she saw a fly drive slowly up the road, and was surprised to find that the solitary occupant, an elderly lady with gray hair, and a hard, forbidding face, stared at her fixedly through a pair of gold eyeglasses as if she felt some personal interest in her. Mabin felt herself blush, for she was sure she had never seen the lady before. Just as she drew her head in she heard the cab stop at the front gate. Mrs. Dale’s voice, talking brightly to the parlormaid, came to Mabin’s ears through the door, which had been left ajar. Then she heard a knock at the front door, and the parlormaid went to answer it. “Mabin, come here,” cried Mrs. Dale from the next room. “I want to show you----” The words died on her lips; and Mabin, who was in the act of coming into the dining-room in obedience to her call, stopped short, and, after a moment’s consideration of what she ought to do, retreated into the smaller room and shut the door behind her. But she had been in time to witness a strange meeting. For the elderly lady whom she had seen in the cab had appeared at the outer door of the dining-room as she had shown herself at the inner one, and it was at the sight of her that Mrs. Dale had stopped short in her speech, with a look of abhorrence and terror on her face. The elder lady spoke at once, in a harsh, commanding voice. She was very tall, erect, and stately, handsomely dressed in black, altogether a commanding personality. Her voice rang through the room, and reached Mabin’s ears, striking the girl with terror too. “I am afraid I have taken you by surprise.” “I suppose,” answered Mrs. Dale in a low voice, “that was what you intended to do.” “I am sorry to see you meet me in that spirit. I have come with every wish for your good. I think it is not right that you should be left here by yourself, as you hold no intercourse, of course, with the people of the neighborhood.” There was a pause, which Mrs. Dale would not break. “I propose, therefore,” went on the elder lady, “to stay with you myself, at least for a little while.” Mrs. Dale, who had remained standing, as her visitor did also, turned upon her quickly: “That I will not put up with.” “That is scarcely courteous, surely?” “There is no question of lip-courtesy between you and me. You, and no one else, have been the cause of all that has happened, and I refuse, absolutely refuse, to stay under the same roof with you for a single day.”