Mrs. Wilson started up; joy at Mr. Aylwinne’s arrival mingling with her nervous dread that he would not find everything in the perfect order and good taste she had been worrying herself and every one about her to attain. “It’s he--it’s Mr. Aylwinne!” she panted. “I’m so pleased! But, oh, Miss Heriton, do you think he’ll approve of the way we’ve hung the pictures? And there are those statuettes--I’m terribly afraid they’re not placed in the right niches!” “Mr. Aylwinne must be of a very exacting disposition if he is not satisfied,” Florence answered, her pulses beating more quickly than usual as she anticipated her own introduction. “But will you not go to meet him?” “Of course--of course!” And Mrs. Wilson hurried away, forgetting in her haste to close the door after her. It was rather awkward to be thus made a hearer of their meeting; but it was unavoidable, for Florence did not like to cross the room and shut the door, lest they should approach and detect her in the act. Thus she heard a manly voice exclaim heartily: “Well, Mrs. Wilson, here I am at last; but I scarcely know yet whether this is Orwell Court or not. How you have transmogrified the place, to be sure!” “Not for the worse, I hope. I assure you I have tried to remember your wishes and tastes, and act up to them as far as I could.” “And you have succeeded admirably. Nothing could be better than the effect of the lamplight on that marble group. Why, Mrs. Wilson, your taste is exquisite!” “Oh, pray don’t give me credit for what I don’t possess! I should not have thought of such a thing. In fact, that group was quite a trouble to me, for I could not find a corner it fitted. It was Miss Heriton who suggested putting it there.” “Who?” Mr. Aylwinne’s voice took such a startled tone that a shiver ran through the frame of the listening Florence, and involuntarily she retreated still farther from the speakers. “Miss Heriton--Florence Heriton. Is it not a pretty name? I must tell you”--Mrs. Wilson chattered on, quite in a glow of elation at his praises--“I must tell you that it was a real anxiety to me when you wrote and bade me find a governess for your poor little wards; and so I did as you had advised me to do in any real difficulty: I carried your letter to that excellent Mr. Lumley. But you won’t catch cold standing here, will you, sir? I am so dreadfully thoughtless, and there is a fire in the morning room.” “I shall not catch cold,” he answered curtly. “You went to Mr. Lumley? Quite right. Well, and then?” “And then he told me he knew a young lady whom he could recommend; and we went together and secured her. But I’m sure you feel chilly, Mr. Aylwinne; you look so pale about the lips.” “You secured her services, did you say? And her father--what about him?”