Poor Nora could have answered both questions, and a numbing sense of hopelessness crept over her as she toiled slowly up the stone stairs. She felt already, without knowing why, that she had come in vain. They were all her enemies, they all hated her. Why should Frau von Arnim be different from the rest? Had not Arnold said, "She is a cold, hard woman who will make trouble"? And yet, as she entered the narrow sitting-room of her aunt’s new home, something of her first hope revived. Frau von Arnim was alone. She stood at the writing-table by the window, apparently looking out into the street, and Nora saw the resolute, aristocratic profile and graceful figure with a heart-throb of relief. This woman was like her mother in all that was noble and generous—perhaps she would be to her as a mother, perhaps she would really understand and help her in her great need. "Aunt Magda!" she said. Her voice sounded breathless. A curious excitement possessed her, so that she could say no more. She felt that everything, her whole future life, depended on Frau von Arnim’s first words. The elder woman turned slowly. Had the faintest warmth of kindness brightened her face, Nora might have flung herself into her arms and poured out the whole story of her errors, her sorrows, her aching sense of divided duty; but Frau von Arnim’s face was cold, impassive, and the hand she extended indifferent, her kiss icy. Nora drew back. In an instant everything in her had frozen. A dawning bitterness and resentment shut the gates of her heart against all confidence, all affection. She felt that here was an enemy from whom she need expect neither help nor mercy, and she seated herself with the hard, set face of a criminal who knows that he is before an unjust judge. "I am glad that you have come at last, Nora," Frau von Arnim said calmly. "We had been hoping to see you some days ago. No doubt you have a great many friends who claim your attention." Her quiet words were free from all sarcasm, and, indeed, every trace of feeling, but they stung Nora by their very indifference. "I came as soon as I thought you would be glad to see me," she said. "I did not think you would want visitors whilst you were settling down." Frau von Arnim studied the sullen girlish face opposite. She might well have retorted that a helping hand is always welcome, even in "settling down," and that Frau von Seleneck, despite her own household cares, had been daily to lend her advice and assistance. But it was not Magda von Arnim’s custom to reproach for neglect, and, moreover, she had another and more important matter on her mind. "Hildegarde is lying down at present," she said in answer to Nora’s question, "and perhaps it is just as well. I have something I wish to speak to you about whilst we are alone." Nora stiffened in her chair. She felt already trapped and browbeaten, and her eyes were bright with defiance as they met Frau von Arnim’s steady gaze.