He had no remembrance of a Mrs. Page, but there was the objection to travelling fruitlessly, and the thought that a woman would be susceptible to the prettiness of his visit. He hesitated--he answered that he would. The girl conducted him to a small, cheerless drawing-room, and returned to say that Mrs. Page would be down in a few minutes. There were antimacassars everywhere, and the cold white mantelpiece exhibited the perpetual porcelain courtship which has never advanced; the amorous male still smirked inanely, and the simpering maiden seemed still to hope. Conrad was much attracted by a large album that reposed on an occasional table. He sat tempted to unclasp it, and had just risen and made a tentative step in its direction when he heard the doorknob move. The lady who came in seemed to deprecate her entrance; she was evidently timid, and she blinked. He thought at first that she suffered from some affection of the eyes, but when she spoke, he opined that the blinking was due entirely to nervousness. "Mr. Warrener?" she said in a whisper. "Mrs. Page," he began, "I must crave your pardon for intruding on you in this fashion. It's very audacious of me because, even when I tell you who I am, I daren't suppose that you will recollect me." Her eyelids fluttered more, and she said:-- "Wo--won't you sit down?" She wore mittens, and plucked at them. "Thank you." Instinctively he lowered his voice, as if he were speaking to an invalid. "My excuse is rather unusual--I hope it won't appear to you preposterous. When I was a boy, your children and I used to be bosom friends, and I found myself in Sweetbay the other day for the first time since. I needn't tell you that I went to look at the house, and the desire to--to find them all again was very strong.... I was fortunate enough to learn that you had moved to Redhill, so I decided to risk your ridicule, and throw myself on your forbearance." "Oh, not at all," she faltered. "I--I'm sure I--" Her nervousness seemed increased, rather than diminished, by his address. There was an awkward pause. "I trust Dr. Page and--and my former comrades are all well?" "Oh, thank you, yes they are all quite well." He wished that Mary's were not the only name among them he could recall; "All well!" he said, forcing a hearty note, "All well! It's strange to me to think of them as grown-up. Time--er--brings many changes, madam?" "Indeed," she concurred timorously; "as you say!" But she volunteered no news, and he began to feel that they were getting on slowly; his harassed gaze wandered to the china courtship. "May I ask if they are still with you?" he ventured. "My eldest daughter is married," she replied. "The others are ... I hope very soon. I--er don't quite understand when it was you knew them? While we were in Sweetbay, I think you said?"