They went and Robin praised the boat until its owner was breathless with rapture. Fräulein Hirsch, standing near her, looked furtively at all the benches round the circle, giving no incautiously interested glance to any one of them in particular. Presently, however, she said: “I think that is Lady Etynge sitting on the third bench from here. I said to you that I had heard she was in London. I wonder if her daughter is still in the Convent at Tours?” When Robin turned, she saw a quiet woman in perfect mourning recognize Fräulein Hirsch with a a bow and smile which seemed to require nearer approach. “We must go and speak to her.” Fräulein Hirsch said. “I know she wil wish me to present you. She is fond of young girls—because of Hélène.” Robin went forward prettily. The woman was gentle looking and attracting. She had a sweet manner and was very kind to Fräulein Hirsch. She seemed to know her well and to like her. Her daughter, Hélène, was still in the Convent at Tours but was expected home very shortly. She would be glad to find that Fräulein Hirsch was in London. “I have turned the entire top story of my big house into a pretty suite for her. She has a fancy for living high above the street,” smiled Lady Etynge, indulgently. Perhaps she was a “Mother” person, Robin thought. Both her looks and talk were kind, and she was very nice in her sympathetic interest in the boats and the children’s efforts to sail them. “I often bring my book here and forget to read, because I find I am watching them,” she said. “They are so eager and so triumphant when a boat gets across the Pond.” She went away very soon and Robin watched her out of sight with interest. They saw her again a few days later and talked a little more. She was not always near the Pond when they came, and they naturally did not go there each time they walked together, though Fräulein Hirsch was fond of sitting and watching the children. She had been to take tea with her former employer, she told Robin one day, and she was mildly excited by the preparations for Hélène, who had been educated entirely in a French convent and was not like an English girl at all. She had always been very delicate and the nuns seemed to know how to take care of her and calm her nerves with their quiet ways. “Her mother is rather anxious about her coming to London. She has, of course, no young friends here and she is so used to the quiet of convent life,” the Fräulein explained. “That is why the rooms at the top of the house have been arranged for her. She will hear so little sound. I confess I am anxious about her myself. Lady Etynge is wondering if she can find a suitable young companion to live in the house with her. She must be a young lady and perfectly educated—and with brightness and charm. Not a person like myself, but one who can be treated as an equal and a friend—almost a playmate.” “It would be an agreeable position,” commented Robin, thoughtfully.