"We’ll put the chain up first, and then open the door a crack," said Mrs. Welwyn. This procedure was adopted, with the result that Mr. Mainwaring and Lady Adela, waiting patiently upon the steps outside, were eventually confronted, after certain mysterious clankings had taken place within, with a vision of two apprehensive countenances, one childish and the other middle-aged, set one upon another against a black background in a frame eight feet high and three inches wide. It was but a glimpse, for the vision was hardly embodied when it faded from view with uncanny suddenness: and after a further fantasia upon the chain, the door was tugged open, to reveal the shrinking figures of Mrs. Welwyn and Amelia. "Good-morning, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady Adela. "I hope you will forgive this early call, but we are anxious to have a talk with--er--Miss Welwyn." Miss Welwyn’s agitated parent ushered the visitors into the dining-room, bidding Amelia run upstairs and give warning of the coming interview. Resistance did not occur to her. Amelia found her sister sitting motionless on the edge of a chair, with her arms upon the table. In her hands she held an open letter, which she was not reading. Her grey eyes, wide open, unblinking, were fixed on vacancy. Her lips moved, as if repeating some formula. Amelia touched her softly on the arm. "Tilly," she whispered, "they want to see you." Tilly roused herself. "Who?" she asked dreamily. The question was answered by the appearance in the doorway of Lady Adela, followed by her husband. Tilly rose, thrust the letter into her belt, and greeted her visitors. "How do you do?" she said mechanically. "Won’t you sit down?" Lady Adela, singling out that well-tried friend of yesterday, the sofa, sank down upon it. Mr. Mainwaring remained standing behind. Little ’Melia, after one sympathetic glance in the direction of her sister, gently closed the door and joined her mother on the landing outside. "’Melia," announced that harassed châtelaine, "there’s the front door again! It must be Stillbottle this time. Supposing he meets _them_?" "It don’t signify if he does," replied her shrewd little daughter. "They have met once already. Still, we may as well keep him out." Mother and daughter accordingly proceeded to a repetition of their previous performance with the door-chain. As before, the front door was ultimately flung open with abject expressions of regret. On the steps stood a small, sturdy, spectacled young clergyman. "Oh, good-morning," he exclaimed. "I am so sorry to trouble you, but I have been asked by a friend to look at your vacant room. Might I do it now?" This was familiar ground, and Mrs. Welwyn escorted the stranger upstairs with a sigh of relief.