Anna reached the edge of the marsh on the side opposite to Kendrew's. So far no one was visible. Now, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was Mrs. Severn. She came towards her, waving her hand as though bidding her remain where she was. Anna did so, gazing at her. She saw in a moment that she walked steadily, and thought she had never looked more handsome. Her incongruity with her surroundings seemed to vanish in the harmony of the silvery green background. She walked slowly, the long black dress she always wore trailing after her, yet half-looped up over one arm, akimbo on her hip. The cameo-like head was held with regal dignity; her dark hair was braided in a knot that would have enchanted a sculptor. The sun seemed to catch and outline every curve of her figure. She was not so pale as usual, and the tinge of colour gave a deep but passionless glow to her eyes, which seemed to light up her face to an extraordinary degree. She fixed them on Anna with the silent mesmerism that always drew speech from any one whom she expected to speak to her. They expressed no emotion beyond an expectation that Anna felt to be sharpened with defiance. Anna, with her fire of indignation kindling every look and gesture, though held in control, was an absolute contrast. When she was only a few paces away, Anna hurried forward and took her hands. No sooner had she done so than she felt the old love, the old longing to kiss and forgive. She held her at arm's length in a scrutiny from which she banished suspicion and reproach. 'You'll come home with me, Clothilde,' she said. Mrs. Severn smiled and disengaged her hands. 'Have you not brought me some clothes on the chance that I choose to remain here?' she said. 'That is the last thing I should have thought of doing, dearest.' 'Why have you come, then? Dinah one way, you the other, just to make a useless fuss.' 'She did not know I could get here.' 'How did you? Who brought you?' 'Mr. Borlase. We drove.' 'Prissy said so. Her sight is ridiculously good. I could only see the twinkling of wheels in the sun. Is he gone? Will you go back with Dinah?' 'Oh Clothilde, don't talk so coldly. With you and Dinah?' Her voice was low, little more than a whisper, but she managed to make it clear and confident. She always trusted to her instincts in dealing with Mrs. Severn. Simple straightforward decision in the course resolved on was of little use if allowed to be felt as decisive. Mrs. Severn's opinion was generally reversed by the acquiescence of others, and her egotism was so baffling that it was impossible to feel certain of anything making the desired impression, unless advanced for the sake of being contradicted. She did not answer now, but turned and looked across the marsh to the cottage. The sun beat fiercely on her head. She raised one hand and pressed it flat above her brow. But the shelter was insufficient. 'You might lend me your parasol, Anna,' she said.