"Nelly!" she cried, clutching my hands and almost lifting herself on tiptoe, as she blinked into my eyes in the uncertain light of the outer hall. "This isn't--can't be--not _our_ Helen Winship--oh, it's some message from her--some--" Her voice died away in incoherent mutterings. She drew me into a big hall like a sitting room behind the small parlour. "Come into the light, child, whoever you are. I want to look at you," she said. An open fire was burning in the grate, and in the room were Milly and Ethel and white-haired Miss Marcia and a tall, blonde young man. All rose to their feet, then stopped. There was an awkward pause, the answering thrill of tense amazement shot from mind to mind like lightning. They stood as if frozen, gazing. The room was for a moment so still that I could hear my own quick breathing and the hammering of my heart. I was grateful for some far shout upon the street that drowned the noise. "But--you--but--I thought--" Milly began in a half-hushed, awe-struck whisper; she never finished the sentence, but continued to gaze at me with big, round eyes, her lips parted, her breath quick and tremulous. I was transported with joy and fright; I almost wished I might sink into the floor, but just then down the stair came the Judge with John behind him, and little Joy perched on his shoulder. I think the others were as grateful as I for the interruption. "Put me down! Put me down!" screamed Joy as she saw me sprinkled with sleet. "Mamma, ith that Mithith Thanta Clauth?" At the welcome laugh that helped to break the ice she ran with a flirt of her short skirts to hide her head against her father's knee. "Helen!" repeated Mrs. Baker, only half recovering from her stupefaction, "this isn't--why, it can't be you!" "I--oh, I'm afraid I'm late," I stammered. Miss Marcia began to unbutton my raincoat, and her kindness somewhat relieved my embarrassment, though I don't know how I managed to respond to the hubbub of greetings, especially when Mr. Hynes, the stranger, was presented. He had been looking at me more intently than he knew, with dark blue brilliant eyes, and he flushed as he touched my hand, until I was glad to take refuge with Joy, who hovered about, eying me as if she still suspected some ruse on the part of Santa Claus. "Joy, you know Cousin Nelly?" I said; and at sound of my voice, they all looked again at each other and then at me. "Why, I can't believe my eyes, though Bake here said you'd altered. Altered!" twittered Aunt Frank. She turned indignantly upon the Judge, who wisely attempted no defense. "I didn't dream--Bake, here, never can tell a story straight. Have you--what is it? Nelly, dear, it's two years since I've seen you; of course you've--grown!" But no amazement could long curb her hospitable instincts. Her incoherence vanished as she grasped at a practical consideration. "But let Milly take you up stairs and get your things off," she said with an air as of one who solves problems.