They were all immensely cheerful and friendly and to Lizzie, white and tired, noisy and horribly robust. She would have liked to have slipped up to her room and stayed there alone until dinner, but Rachel said: "Oh! you must be perished after that wet journey. Tea's just at its hottest and its freshest. Quick, Roddy--the toast--Never mind the rest of us, Miss Rand--just drink that tea and get warm." They allowed her to sink back into an easy chair somewhere in the shadow and the tea was very comforting and the stern hall with its crackling fire and its cosy solid shape most friendly. She listened to them all noisily discussing people and dances and horses and dinners. She watched Rachel Seddon, sitting a little gravely, straight in her chair, throwing in a word now and again. This was the woman.... This was the woman.... She felt a warm tongue that licked her hand. She looked down and saw at her side the oddest dog, a dog like a mat, shapeless with two brown eyes behind its hair and a black wet nose. There was something about the eyes and the way that the warm body was pressed against her dress that won her instant affection. "What an adorable animal!" she said to Roddy, who was sitting next to her. "Oh! Jacob!" he said, laughing. "He really oughtn't to be in here at all--servants' hall's his proper place--If you care for dogs, Miss Rand, I'll show you some----" As he spoke she caught the dog's eyes and saw in the depths of them shame. He had been sitting, very square and upright, with his eyes gravely fixed, with great interest, upon the company. Then, at the sound of Roddy's voice his head had dropped, instantly he became furtive, his eyes searching for some place of escape. Her hand caught his rough coat and she drew him to her side and stroked his ears. "I think he's perfectly delightful," she said. "I'm afraid I prefer mongrels to better dogs." "Do you really?" said Roddy, looking kindly at her. "'Pon my word, Miss Rand, I must show you my little lot. I don't think you'll have much use for that animal there afterwards." At last the girl in the riding-habit and the other woman and the young man noisily departed. Rachel took Lizzie upstairs. "Are you sure," she said, "you'd like to come down to dinner? Wouldn't you rather, to-night, go early to bed and have it there?" "No, thank you, Lady Seddon." Lizzie looked about the room. "This is all splendid, thank you. I'm not a bit tired." "I'm so glad you've come," said Rachel, searching for Lizzie's eyes. But Lizzie had turned away. At last she was alone. Her room was splendid--so wide, and high, and such a fire! She flung up her window. There the Downs were, black, huge before her; the rain came down hissing from the sky and a smell of wet earth and grass stole up to her. "That's the woman ..." she said again to herself--"What shall we say to one another?" Then as she stared into the fire she thought, "She wants me to help her."