“Oh, Sissie Hancourt, you are a rich treat,” said the young lady, kissing her. “Now, be good, and wait with Mrs. Smith until your mother comes for you.” “Don’t go, I like you. Mr. Knight, please go away yourself, and then my nice young lady will stay.” “Do not be unkind to Mr. Knight, Sissie. My cab is waiting, I heard it stop at the door. Good-bye, Mrs. Smith, I shall come again soon.” “Do, dearie, it is such a comfort to see you.” The poor woman often spoke as if she saw, though she was quite blind. Her young visitor shook hands with her, and touched her shoulder caressingly, and then Knight conducted her to the cab, looking rather wistfully into the pleasant face, and wondering if he dare ask her name. “May I tell you something?” he asked. “You spoke to me some time ago about the dwellings of my people—do you remember?” “It was impertinent of me to do so; but I was feeling very strongly for that poor woman, and, of course, I did not know that you meant to do anything for your _employés_.” “How could you know? It is good of you to take so much interest in the people; and because you do I should like to tell you that I am preparing to take my works and workers away together. I have bought some land in Wales, and am building such dwellings as I think you would approve. Next spring I hope the place will be ready, for there is a colony of builders hard at work there. I could not do what I would here, and it seemed to me that this would be the better way.” “What a good idea! Do you say that the place is already in course of preparation? I see your name often in the papers, but I have never read of this project.” “No; we have managed to keep it out of the papers, for a wonder; but the place is being rapidly completed.” “Have you told the people?” “Not yet. I have been wondering whether it would be wiser to do so. Do you advise me to tell them soon?” “I do, partly that it may comfort them, and partly that they may familiarise themselves with the idea. You have not the _élite_ of the working-classes in your employment, and the change which is needed is more in themselves than in their circumstances, though when one thinks of the environment of the people it is little wonder that some of them are bad. I am glad they are to have a chance.” She drove away with a pleasant smile, and Arthur Knight wished he could have talked with her for hours instead of minutes. He was determined to find out who she was, if possible, so he returned to Mrs. Smith and Sissie. “I am sorry I frightened your friend away,” he said. “What is the lady’s name?” “She is Miss Grace. She lives in the country, and sometimes she brings me fruit and flowers and vegetables, and she reads and sings to me. She has a beautiful voice,” said Mrs. Smith. “She is a pretty lady,” added Sissie, “and I shall go and see her when I know where she lives.” “Miss Grace? Is that her only name?” asked Knight.