They entered the house by a French window, and Maud drew back into her room. What was there in that childish face that appealed so tremendously to her womanhood--wholly banishing her first involuntary sense of recoil? She could not have said, she was only conscious of the woman in her throbbing with a deep compassion. She stood and waited for the child's coming with a strangely poignant expectation. She heard Bunny's voice talking cheerily on the stairs, but his words provoked no response. She went to the door and opened it. Bunny was leading the way; in fact his companion seemed to be lagging very considerably in the rear. Maud moved out into the passage, and Bunny stood to one side with a courteous gesture. "Mademoiselle Antoinette Larpent!" he announced. The small figure in blue drew itself together with a certain bravado and came forward. Maud held out her hands. "My dear child," she said, "I expected you long ago." The hands she clasped were very small and cold. They did not cling to her as she had half expected. The blue eyes flashed her a single nervous glance and fell. "I'm sorry I'm late, madam," said the visitor in a low, punctilious voice. Maud felt amused and chilled in the same moment. "Come and sit down!" she said. "We will have some tea upstairs. Bunny, go and order it, will you?" "With pleasure," said Bunny. "And may I return?" She smiled at him as she passed an arm about the girl's narrow shoulders. "Yes, you can come back when it's ready. Come in here, dear! You will like to take off your things. How long have you been here?" "Only five minutes," came the murmured answer; she thought it had a deprecating sound. "You must be tired," she said kindly. "You came from town? How is it you are so late? Did you miss your train?" "No, madam." Very nervously came the reply. The contrast between this and the boyish freedom of manner on the terrace a few seconds before would have been ludicrous if it had not been somehow pathetic. She passed on, too considerate to press for details. "Take off your hat and coat, won't you? When we have had some tea I will take you to your room." She was pleased to see that Charlie's _protégé_ was garbed with extreme simplicity. Her fair hair, which had been closely shorn, was beginning to curl at the ends. She liked the delicate contrasting line of the black brows above the deep blue of the eyes. She noticed that the veins on the white temples showed with great distinctness. "Sit down!" she said. "And now you must tell me what to call you. Your name is Antoinette, isn't it?" "I'm generally called Toby," said the visitor in a very shy voice. "But you will call me--what you like." "Would you like me to call you Toby?" Maud asked. "Yes, please," said Toby with unexpected briskness. Maud smiled. "Very well, my dear. Then that is settled. We are not going to be strangers, you and I. I expect you know that Lord Saltash and I are great friends--though I have never met your father."