Molly stood perfectly motionless, so that the blind woman should not hear her move and know that any one was near. The woman came on hesitatingly, tap, tap, tapping with her stick. Molly watched her. The woman passed within a short distance of where Molly was standing—stopped; listened; then moved on. At that moment one of Molly’s feet slipped a little, and the stones on which she was standing moved, and several trickled down and fell with a _plomp_ into the water. The woman stopped immediately; while Molly bit her lip at her own carelessness. “Is any one there?” asked the woman, turning, and facing in the direction whence the sound had come. Molly did not answer, but looked straight at the woman. And as she looked, a puzzled expression came over Molly’s face. Where had she seen the blind woman’s face before? She _had_ seen it; of this she felt certain, and yet— Then suddenly Molly knew. It was the same face that she had seen in Mrs Jennet’s photo album. It was the face of Miss Lydia! This discovery gave Molly a shock, and sent all her thoughts and plans tumbling helter-skelter over each other. What was she to do now? Meanwhile, as no reply had been given to her question, the blind woman sighed, and passed on. Molly did not know what to do, or whom to believe. She had never been wrong before in trusting one of her friend’s friends; and this certainly looked like the Miss Lydia of whom Mrs Jennet had spoken. But _had_ Old Nancy written that letter? If so, she would, of course, trust her before any one, and obey her instructions. “I can’t find out who wrote the letter, at least, not yet,” thought Molly. “But I can find out if she really is Miss Lydia.” Her mind made up, she stepped forward a few paces, and called in a clear voice: “There _is_ some one here. Can I help you?” The blind woman turned eagerly, and groped her way back toward the voice. “Oh, I am so glad to hear some one speak again—but who are you? Are you a friend?” asked the woman anxiously. “I am so helpless, you know, and—and——” “I am willing to be your friend, if— But who are you?” asked Molly. “What is your name?” “My name is Lydia North,” replied the woman. “And I live in a little cottage—up there—somewhere”—she waved her arm vaguely. “On the side of the Giant’s Head.... Oh, tell me who you are, please!” “I am a little girl,” answered Molly. “And if you are truly Miss Lydia—I am your friend. Tell me what I can do for you.” “Will you lead me back to my home again? I cannot find my way from here, there seem to be hills all round that shut me in. I cannot find the way out and I am afraid of walking into the water; I nearly fell in just now.” “How did you get here, Miss Lydia?” asked Molly. “I was hoping to meet you at your cottage—Mrs Jennet told me about you—told me to call and see you.... But I didn’t know that you were—blind.”