"Black! black! You said black last time," cried Norah in triumph. "You are making it up, and I could imagine what he is like as well as you, if I liked, but I won't, because it is so horribly uncomfortable when you really meet. I tried that trick with Lettice once, when a friend of Miss Briggs came to visit us. She was a very nice old lady, and awfully kind (she made me a sweet little pin-cushion for my room), but she _was_ ugly! She looked just like a fat, good-natured frog, with light eyes very far apart, big, big freckles spotted over her face, and such a great, wide mouth. Well, I saw her first, and then I went upstairs, and Lettice met me and asked me what she was like. I felt mischievous, so I said that she was dark, and tall, and stately, with a long, thin face, and beautiful, melancholy eyes. Lettice went rushing downstairs, and when she saw her she stopped quite short, and began to choke and gurgle as if she were going to have a fit. She pretended that she was laughing at something Raymond was doing in the garden; but it was horribly awkward, and I vowed I'd never do it again. I should hate people to laugh at me, and it's unkind to do things that you wouldn't like other people to do to you--I mean--you know what I mean!" "I know," said Rex gravely. He looked quite serious and impressed, and Norah cast inquiring glances at his face, wondering what he could be thinking of, to make him so solemn all of a sudden. At last, "Look here," he said, "talking of meeting strangers, don't stare at poor little Edna when you meet! There is--er--something--about her eyes, and she is very sensitive about it. Try and look as if you don't notice it, you know." "Oh, I will!" cried Norah gushingly. She knitted her brows together, trying to think what the "something" could be. Something wrong with her lungs, and something wrong with her eyes--poor Edna! she was indeed to be pitied! "I am glad he told me, for I wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world," she said to herself; and many times over, during the course of the next hour, did her thoughts wander sympathetically towards her new companion. It was a long, cold drive, but Norah could have found it in her heart to wish it were longer, as the dog-cart turned in at the gate of the Manor House and drew up before the grey stone porch. Mrs Freer came into the hall to welcome her guest, with a grey woollen shawl wrapped round her shoulders, and her little face pinched with cold.