Margareth wanted to know, I was sure, but I did not enlighten her further; besides, I was in too great a hurry to break the seal,--a quaint little impression of an eagle carrying in his beak an oak-branch. The note was written in a hand full of character, yet so orderly it made me feel ashamed. It was as follows:-- DEAR SIR,--The young lady is here, and I said you wished to come. She has no objection, and will stay to see you. CLARA BENETTE. "How like her!" I thought; and then, with an unpardonable impulse,--I don't defend myself in the least,--I flew out of the house as if my shoes had been made of satin. I left the note open upon the table (it was in the empty breakfast-room where I had been lolling), meaning thereby to save my credit,--like a simpleton as I was, for it contained not one word of explanation. A carriage was at the door of that corner house in St. Anthony's Lane,--a dark-green carriage; very handsome, very plain, with a pair of beautiful horses: the coachman, evidently tired of waiting, was just going to turn their heads. When I got into the room upstairs, or rather while yet upon the stairs, I smelt some refined sort of foreign scent I had once before met with in my experience; namely, when my mother had received a present of an Indian shawl in an Indian box, from an uncle of hers who had gone out to India and laid his bones there. When I really entered, Miss Lawrence, in a chair by the table, was examining some fresh specimens of Miss Benette's work outspread upon the crimson as before. I abruptly wished Clara good-day, and immediately her visitor held out her hand to me. This lady made me feel queer by daylight: I could not realize, scarcely recognize, her. She looked not so brilliant, and now I found that she was slightly sallow; her countenance might have been called heavy, from its peculiar style. Still, I admired her eyes, though I discerned no more fireflies in her glance. She was dressed in a great shawl,--red, I think it was,--with a black bonnet and feather; and her gloves were so loose, they seemed as if they would fall off. She had an air of even more fashionable ease than ever, and I, not knowing that it _was_ fashionable ease, felt so abashed under its influence that I could not hold up my head. She went on talking about the work. I found she wished to purchase some; but Clara would not part with any of that which was upon the table, because it was for the Quakers in Albemarle Square. But she was very willing to work specially for Miss Lawrence. I thought I had never seen Clara so calm,--I wondered she could be so calm; at once she seemed to me like myself,--a child, so awfully grown-up did Miss Lawrence appear. I beheld, too, that the latter lady glanced often stealthily round and round the room, and I did not like her the better for it. I thought she was curious, and very fine besides; so the idea of asking her about Milans-André passed out of my brain completely.