It marked a change in Mrs. Dew’s attitude towards the household in Holywell that she spoke of Mr. Wycherly as "the master." It suggested a permanence in their relations which would have been very reassuring to him had he heard it. Jane-Anne, too, noticed the phrase, and when her aunt was gone gleefully repeated to herself: "See-saw Margery Daw, Jenny shall have a new master, She shall have but a penny a day Because she can work no faster." "It’s not Jenny really, it’s Johnny, but Jenny does as well, and I’ll work without the penny," thought Jane-Anne, "if only that beautiful old gentleman will be my master too." Edmund had elected to take his guardian for a walk before tea, and led him over Magdalen bridge, out into the Cowley Road, and finally into Jeune Street. "Why are you taking me this way?" Mr. Wycherly asked. "It does not appear to me to be a particularly agreeable neighbourhood." "It isn’t," Edmund frankly agreed, "but now we’re here we may as well look in and see Jane-Anne; she’s to sit up a bit this afternoon, Mrs. Dew said so, and she said I needn’t trouble to go and see her because she’s coming to us to-morrow, but I think we ought to go, you know, especially as we’re here. You haven’t seen her, and she’ll like coming better if she’s seen you." "Edmund," said Mr. Wycherly, stopping in the middle of the road, "acknowledge that you have brought me here with the deliberate intention of visiting Mrs. Dew’s niece." "Well, Guardie, I _did_ think of it. Don’t you think it’s the proper thing to do?" By this time they had reached the door, whereupon Edmund knocked loudly without waiting for further discussion. Miss Morecraft was much flustered. "Yes, they could see the little girl if they didn’t mind coming upstairs. She had just been got up and the nurse had gone out for a breath of fresh air. Very warm for the time of year wasn’t it." Miss Morecraft opened the bedroom door, and without any announcement squeezed herself against the outer wall that Mr. Wycherly might enter. Jane-Anne was seated in an armchair at the window looking frail as a sigh. She wore a bright pink flannelette dressing-gown which accentuated her pallor. She loved this garment dearly, for dressing growns were not included in the uniform of "The Bainbridge." Most of the girls were far too strong and healthy to need them, and Mrs. Dew had made this for Jane-Anne during one of her many illnesses. Mr. Wycherly stood in the narrow doorway and the afternoon sun shone in on him, on his silvery hair and gentle, high-bred face. "May we come in, my dear?" he asked. "Do you feel well enough to see us?" Poor Jane-Anne was too weak to stand up and curtsey. She flushed and paled, and paled and flushed as she turned her thin, sensitive little face towards Mr. Wycherly, but there was no mistaking the welcome in her great eyes, as she whispered: "Please do, sir, I’m so sorry I mayn’t get up and put a chair for you."