In walked Jean, her bonnet on, her shawl over her arm, looking like going, in complete ignorance of any disturbance, as she never put her foot downstairs. Mr. Sandford glared at her, he was not "quiet" she saw, so she intended to express her gratitude, which was the right thing to do, and then depart and not say that word about remaining which she would fain have done. She was a handsome and imposing figure, her kind and homely face, pale from the effects of her recent illness, was surrounded by a full-plaited border of lace, her print gown was a purpose-like gown, and she had a shawl folded neatly across her chest. She was the picture and type of the good, unspoiled, old-fashioned, country servant. Her manner was full of respect, and free from any servility. "I am come to speak my thanks to you, sir, before I go;" she began, "I have been a great trouble. Now I am well, I will thank you and go my way." "My sister, not I, looked after you," he said. "She did that, but there's no one like her in the world." The two looked at each other, her keen brave blue eyes saw the expression in his and could not understand it. "You think much of my sister." "I think all the world of her. She has need of love and care, and kindness--I will always give her what I can." "What are you going to do when you leave this?" he asked abruptly. "I am going to get a place somewhere near. Yes, maister Sandford, you will not like it, but it is my only pleasure to be near _her_, and she needs me." "What place will you get in Renton itself? There are no gentlefolks there." "I'll get some place; I can put my hand to anything, the Lord will provide for me," said Jean in a low voice. "Why need you go? Since you and my sister cannot live apart, stay," he said; and, trying to hide the fact of his giving in from kindly motives, he continued sternly, "I do not choose my sister to be running through Renton streets at all hours--as you and she won't part, stay!" "I am not sure, sir." "What do you mean, you are not sure?" "I must be guided by Mrs. Dorriman's wishes, and other things." "Well," he said, roughly, "I have asked you to stay, and you can speak to Mrs. Dorriman and do as you like." He was conscious of a great wish that she should stay; but he could think of nothing more to say. "There is no room for me, sir, and I am afraid you say it now, and will be sorry afterwards; and the end would then be worse than the beginning. It would hurt Mrs. Dorriman more." "You can do as you like," he said, more determined she should stay, since she opposed his will, "but I cannot reconcile your affection for Mrs. Dorriman with your determination to leave her."