John Avery brought his guest into the hall, then the usual family sitting-room when particular privacy was not desired. Here they were met by a lady, a little under middle height, with a fair pale complexion, but dark brown eyes and hair, her manners at once very quiet and yet very cordial. This was Isoult Avery. In due time the next morning the party set forth,--namely, John and Isoult Avery, and Dr Thorpe,--and after two days' travelling reached Crowe. Crowe was a smaller house than Bradmond, less pleasantly situated, and with more confined grounds. The door was opened by a girl who, to judge from her dress and appearance, was a maid-of-all-work, and with whom tidiness was apparently not a cardinal virtue. "Good morrow, Deb [Note 4]; how fareth the child?" "Good lack, Mistress!" was all that could be extracted from Deb. "Get thee down to the kitchen for a slattern as thou art, and wash thee and busk [dress] thee ere thou open the door to any again!" said a rather shrill, yet not unpleasant, voice behind Deb; and that damsel disappeared with prompt celerity. "The maid is enough to provoke all the saints in the calendar. Isoult, sweet heart, be a thousand times welcomed!" And the speaker, advancing, kissed her guest with as much affection as though they had been sisters. "And how goeth it with the child, Mrs Philippa?" A quick shake of the head seemed to give an unfavourable answer. "Demand that of Dr Thorpe, when he hath seen her; but our apothecary feareth much." Very unlike either of the women already described was Philippa Basset. There was nothing passive about her; every thing was of the most active type, and the mood in which she chiefly lived was the imperative. While really under the common height of women, in some mysterious way she appeared much taller than she was. Her motions were quick even to abruptness: her speech sincere even to bluntness. Every body who knew her loved her dearly, yet every body would have liked to alter her character a little. Generally speaking, she seemed to take no part in those softer feminine feelings supposed to be common to the sex; yet there were times when that firm voice could falter, and those bright, quick, grey-blue eyes grow dim with tears. Whatever she did, she did thoroughly and heartily: she loved fervently and hated fervently. That "capacity for indignation" which it has been said lies at the root of all human virtues, was very fully developed in Philippa. Her age was thirty-one, but she looked nearer forty. Perhaps Isoult Avery, who had gone with her through the storm of suffering which fell on the House of Lisle, could have guessed how that look of age had come into the once bright and lively face of Philippa Basset. "Come in, dear heart," continued Philippa, "and speak with my Lady my mother; and I will carry up Dr Thorpe to see the child." So John and Isoult went into the parlour, and Philippa conducted Dr Thorpe to the sick chamber.