Joan, who was seated on the horsehair sofa reading, or pretending to read a book, rose instinctively at the words, and stared at her veiled and stately-looking visitor. “Surely,” she said, “you are Lady Graves?” “Yes, Miss Haste, I am Lady Graves, and I have taken the liberty of coming to see you. I am told that you have been ill.” Joan bowed her head and sank back upon the sofa, pointing towards a chair. At the moment she could not trust herself to speak, for she felt that the blow which she dreaded was about to fall, and that Henry’s mother came as a messenger of ill. Lady Graves sat down, and for a while there was silence. “I trust that you are better,” she said at length. “Thank you, yes, your ladyship; I am almost well again now.” “I am glad of that, Miss Haste, for I do not wish to upset you, or retard your recovery, and I have come to speak to you, if I have your permission, upon a very delicate and important matter.” Again Joan bowed, and Lady Graves went on. “Miss Haste, certain things have come to my knowledge of which I need only allude to one namely, that my son Henry is anxious to make you his wife, as indeed, if what I have learned is true, you have a right to expect,” and she paused. “Please go on,” murmured Joan. “I am here,” she continued hesitatingly, “to submit some questions to your consideration; but pray understand that my son knows nothing of this visit, and that I have not come to reproach you in any way. We are all human and liable to fall into temptation, though our temptations vary with age, disposition and other circumstances: it is quite possible, for instance, that in speaking to you thus I am at this moment yielding to a temptation which I ought to resist. Perhaps I am right in supposing that it is your intention to accept my son’s offer of marriage?” “I have not made up my mind, Lady Graves.” “Well,” she answered, with a faint smile, “you will doubtless make it up when you see him, if you do see him. I think that I may take it for granted that, unless what I have to say to you should change your views, you will very shortly be married to Sir Henry Graves.” “I suppose you do not wish that,” said Joan: “indeed, how can you wish it, seeing what I am, and his reason for asking me to marry him?”