Presently the nozzle of the hose came into view, and behind it the rubber tube emerged until Daisy could see a black-sleeved arm, with white cuffs turned back at the wrist. Then, following the arm, there passed into sight a statelily-moving, moderately stout, slightly stooped old lady, with a white lace cap pinned on her gray hair. Lady Frances Ware, who, for more than three-score of her eighty-two years--ever since, in fact, she had become a member of the Ware household--had been an absolute ruler, possessed a face in which every lineament was almost mesmerically masterful. Beneath the silvered hair that on either side of its straight central parting, was drawn back smoothly under her cap, a forehead, puckered in a Frontenac-like way between the brows, sloped up and forward. Behind her glasses her eyes, keen, dark-blue, and eagle-like, looked out level-irised. Her mouth was bent down at the corner, and, beneath the underthrust lower lip, the chin was gathered tensely. Evidently she had that uncanny faculty, peculiar to those long habituated to directing a household, of instantly and by instinct detecting the irregular; for she was barely in view, before her eyes travelled up to the balcony where Daisy leaned. Lady Frances adjusted her glasses; looked hard at the girl a moment; then turned off the nozzle of the garden-hose, folded her hands across one another at a point just below her waistband, and glanced off across the lawn toward where the mower was clattering. "Will," she said, "come here--at once." The mower stopped obediently; and Daisy, who had drawn back a little, saw the tall figure of Sir William come into view between the trees. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and his neatly-cropped head was bare. "Yes, mother," he said, as deferentially as though he were ten years old. "Who," said Lady Frances, "is that--up there? Or do you know?" Sir William, as he glanced up to the balcony and saw Daisy, gave a little start. Then he nodded and smiled at the girl; and, appearing to square his shoulders a little, turned again to the old lady. "That, mother," he said, simply and with a dignity equal to Lady Frances' own, "is--my wife." The dictatress of the Ware household lifted her eyes again, and regarded Daisy for nearly three minutes. Then she faced her son, took off her glasses, and looked at _him_ for a short period. As, at the conclusion of this survey, she inhaled preparatory to speaking, Sir William had an odd sensation of tingling down the backs of his legs, as in the days when his mother had prepared to supplement reproof with liberal administration of the tawze. "Have you gone quite daft?" she demanded; then, with an imperious motion of her finger, she said, "Now, exactly what do you mean by this, Will? If you were not speaking seriously, I may tell you at once that I wish no trifling on such a subject. Now, answer me immediately."