Was it her fancy, or did the Spinster look pathetically pleased because some one had said "good afternoon" and had made a playful remark? Up the steps she hastened, rather stiffly, her figure being of the kind that seems all clothes. When she got to the top she said, with a shy, effusive little laugh, "Oh, are you superstitious?" and before Olwen could answer, she hurried on, "Oh, can one order tea here, at any time one likes? Could I order it in my own room, do you think?" "I think so," said Olwen, surprised. In spite of the gap in their ages, this woman of thirty-five seemed to speak as if she were a new girl, just arrived at school. In spite of her "set" figure, her mode of dressing, her big nose, there was--yes! something of suppressed schoolgirlishness about her yet. Some are born with the saddle to wear, some with the spur, says the proverb. This Spinster had the look, not only of having been born with the saddle, but of having been for years under the spur of others. Her timid eyes were those of a dog who has been turned adrift. They fastened upon Olwen. "This is a lovely place, isn't it?" she hurried on as if afraid the girl would leave her. "Have you been here long?" "About a week." "Oh, have you? I have only just come. I came just before lunch. I saw you at lunch, with a tall lady in brown. Are you staying with her?" "No," Olwen said, "I'm here with my uncle; I am his secretary." "Oh, are you? How nice. I am not with anybody," volunteered the Spinster. Clutching her guide-book and plant and fixing the girl with that timid yet persistent eye, she seemed ready to stand there and talk for half an hour. "You are the first person I have spoken to here. I'm quite alone." These were the three words which--with all the unspoken, unconscious pathos behind them--went to Olwen's heart. She tightened her fingers upon what she held in her hand, and she thought to herself, "_Here's_ someone who needs the Charm!" Then she thought, caught back a little, "I can't give it just to the first person I meet. Oughtn't I to see a little more of her, first?" The Spinster's next remarks seemed to fall in with this plan. "I oughtn't to keep you here talking, without any hat on.... Oh, d'you always go without a hat in the woods?... I must just put this plant down; do come into my room a minute, won't you? It's only on the first floor, just at the top of the stairs; yes, do----" It was the best room in the hotel to which Olwen followed this new acquaintance of hers; and it seemed crowded with belongings, all very obviously costly, and all--curiously enough!--quite incredibly _new_. "Oh--couldn't you--couldn't you have tea with me?" was the Spinster's next suggestion. "My name is Walsh; Agatha Walsh. Do have tea with me. Please. I'll order some now----" She rang the waiter's bell; and in halting French she ordered the sallow little Italian to bring up to her room tea for two. "_Simple?_" asked the waiter. "Oh--what does he mean?"