She was at once kindly and a little bit servile. The young man entered. It was an old house, rather dark, and sparsely furnished. The elderly woman sat nervously on the edge of one of the chairs in a drawing-room that looked as if it were furnished from dismal relics of dismal homes, and there was a little straggling attempt at conversation. Mrs. Greenwell was evidently a working class woman unused to service or to any formality. Presently she gathered up courage to invite her visitor into the dining-room. There from the table under the window rose a tall, slim girl with a cat in her arms. She was evidently a little more lady-like than was habitual to her, but she had a gentle, delicate, small nature. Her brown hair almost covered her ears, her dark lashes came down in shy awkwardness over her beautiful blue eyes. She shook hands in a frank way, yet she was shrinking. Evidently she was not sure how her position would affect her visitor. And yet she was assured in herself, shrinking and timid as she was. “She must be a good deal in love with him,” thought Berry. Both women glanced shamefacedly at the roughly laid table. Evidently they ate in a rather rough and ready fashion. Elaine—she had this poetic name—fingered her cat timidly, not knowing what to say or to do, unable even to ask her visitor to sit down. He noticed how her skirt hung almost flat on her hips. She was young, scarce developed, a long, slender thing. Her colouring was warm and exquisite. The elder woman bustled out to the kitchen. Berry fondled the terrier dogs that had come curiously to his heels, and glanced out of the window at the wet, deserted orchard. This room, too, was not well furnished, and rather dark. But there was a big red fire. “He always has fox terriers,” he said. “Yes,” she answered, showing her teeth in a smile. “Do you like them, too?” “Yes”—she glanced down at the dogs. “I like Tam better than Sally—” Her speech always tailed off into an awkward silence. “We’ve been to see Aunt Maud,” said the nephew. Her eyes, blue and scared and shrinking, met his. “Dan had a letter,” he explained. “She’s very bad.” “Isn’t it horrible!” she exclaimed, her face crumbling up with fear. The old woman, evidently a hard-used, rather down-trodden workman’s wife, came in with two soup-plates. She glanced anxiously to see how her daughter was progressing with the visitor. “Mother, Dan’s been to see Maud,” said Elaine, in a quiet voice full of fear and trouble. The old woman looked up anxiously, in question. “I think she wanted him to take the child. She’s very bad, I believe,” explained Berry. “Oh, we should take Winnie!” cried Elaine. But both women seemed uncertain, wavering in their position. Already Berry could see that his uncle had bullied them, as he bullied everybody. But they were used to unpleasant men, and seemed to keep at a distance. “Will you have some soup?” asked the mother, humbly.