The room-door was flung open, and Fred Temple put on a savage face, for his brother looked after him more than he liked; when, instead of Temple major, there appeared a shining big brown satin bonnet, and an old lady's face under it, who stood there with a walking-stick. "Yes, you see I was right, grandmamma; I said she was not gone," piped a shrill voice behind; and Mabel Smith, in an old-fashioned black silk frock and tippet, came into view. They had driven up to look after Sophie. Sophie was equal to the occasion. She rose gracefully and held out both her hands, as though they had been welcome as is the sun in harvest. The old lady leaned on her stick, and stared around: the many faces seemed to confuse her. "Dear me! I did not know you had a luncheon-party, ma'am." "Just two or three friends who have dropped in, Mrs. Golding," said Sophie, airily. "Let me take your stick." The old lady, who looked like a very amiable old lady, sat down in the nearest chair, but kept the stick in her hand. Mabel Smith was regarding everything with her shrewd eyes and compressing her thin lips. "This is Johnny Ludlow, grandmamma; you have heard me speak of _him_: I don't know the others." "How do you do, sir," said the old lady, politely nodding her brown bonnet at me. "I hope you are in good health, sir?" "Yes, ma'am, thank you." For she put it as a question, and seemed to await an answer. Tod and the rest, who had risen, began to sit down again. "I'm sure I am sorry to disturb you at luncheon, ma'am," said the old lady to Mrs. Everty. "We came in to see whether you had gone home or not. I said you of course had gone; that you wouldn't stay away from your husband so long as this; and also because we had not heard of you for a month past. But Mabel thought you were here still." "I am intending to return shortly," said Sophie. "That's well: for I want to send up Mabel. And I brought in a letter that came to my house this morning, addressed to you," continued the old lady, lugging out of her pocket a small collection of articles before she found the letter. "Mabel says it is your husband's handwriting, ma'am; if so, he must be thinking you are staying with me." "Thanks," said Sophie, slipping the letter away unopened. "Had you not better see what it says?" suggested Mrs. Golding to her. "Not at all: it can wait. May I offer you some luncheon?" "Much obleeged, ma'am, but I and Mabel took an early dinner before setting out. And on which day, Mrs. Everty, do you purpose going?" "I'll let you know," said Sophie. "What can have kept you so long here?" continued the old lady, wonderingly. "Mabel said you did not know any of the inhabitants." "I have found it of service to my health," replied Sophie with charming simplicity. "Will you take a glass of sherry, Mrs. Golding?"