The good soul paused, in confusion, at the words which had so nearly slipped out. What would this haughty young maiden have said if she had called her "my dear?" So she made a nervous little cough, and added, in an apologetic voice, "Miss Beauchamp." "Thanks, you’re very kind," replied Monica, in her off-hand way. "I’m sure I’m awfully sorry to give you such a lot of trouble." "It’s no trouble at all, my dear," said her hostess warmly, quite forgetting to watch her words this time; but Monica did not appear to mind the appellation, it seemed natural to be called "my dear" by a person of Mrs. Howell’s description. "I like fussin’ over people." And the good woman looked a wee bit wistful, for Lily hated above all things to be "fussed over by ma." "I don’t think I should care about it always," said Monica candidly, with a little laugh; "but just now it feels rather nice to be waited on," and she smiled up into the homely face, surmounted by the magnificent, but too lavishly trimmed cap, which was bending over her. Mrs. Howell’s heart went out to this girl, who seemed so different from what Lily had declared her to be; and Monica, realising the motherliness which underlay all the oddities and vulgarities, felt strangely drawn towards her commonplace hostess. They were becoming quite at home with each other, when carriage wheels were heard, and "Mrs. Beauchamp" was announced. A hasty glance at the visitor’s aristocratic appearance, and the sound of her well-modulated voice, made poor Mrs. Howell realise her many deficiencies once again, and she relapsed into monosyllabic replies to Mrs. Beauchamp’s many enquiries. So Monica had perforce to be chief spokeswoman. "Well, I am glad that it is no worse than it is," said her grandmother stiffly. "The anxiety your non-appearance caused me was intense; and all this trouble and inconvenience to everybody would have been avoided, if you had not disobeyed my commands." And she shook her head severely at the culprit, who showed no sign of contrition for her misdeeds. "Well, you will have plenty of time to reflect, so we will say no more now," added the old lady, "but with Mrs. Howell’s permission Barnes shall help you out to the carriage, and we will not trespass further on her kindness." "Oh, I can hobble out by myself, somehow," said Monica, and she tried to get up off the couch, but fell back among the cushions with a stifled groan. "Let me help you, my dear," whispered Mrs. Howell, so low that no one but Monica heard her, and with a supreme effort the girl managed just to stand, by holding tight to the velvet-covered arm which was offered for her to lean on. But to walk was absolutely impossible, the mere movement of the injured ankle (the pain had been tolerably easy while it had been laid up) was so excruciating, that even strong-willed Monica could not summon up courage to put it to the ground.