She felt her hopes raised a degree, however, when Lady Etynge smiled at her. “Do you know, I feel that is very pretty of you!” she said. “It quite delights me—as I am an idolizing mother—that my mere talk of Hélène should have made you like her well enough to think you might care to live with her. And I confess I am modern enough to be pleased with your wishing to earn your own living.” “I must,” said Robin. “I _must!_ I could not bear not to earn it!” She spoke a little suddenly, and a flag of new colour fluttered in her cheek. “When Hélène comes, you must meet. If you like each other, as I feel sure you will, and if Mrs. Gareth-Lawless does not object—if it remains only a matter of being suitable—you are suitable, my dear—you are suitable.” She touched Robin’s hand with the light pat which was a caress, and the child was radiant. “Oh, you are kind to me!” The words broke from her involuntarily. “And it is such _good_ fortune! Thank you, thank you, Lady Etynge.” The flush of her joy and relief had not died out before the footman, who had opened the door, appeared on the threshold. He was a handsome young fellow, whose eyes were not as professionally impassive as his face. A footman had no right to dart a swift side look at one as people did in the street. He did dart such a glance. Robin saw, and she was momentarily struck by its being one of those she sometimes objected to. Otherwise his manner was without flaw. He had only come to announce to his mistress the arrival of a caller. When Lady Etynge took the card from the salver, her expression changed. She even looked slightly disturbed. “Oh, I am sorry,” she murmured, “I must see her,” lifting her eyes to Robin. “It is an old friend merely passing through London. How wicked of me to forget that she wrote to say that she might dash in at any hour.” “Please!” pled Robin, prettily. “I can run away at once. Fräulein Hirsch must have come back. Please—” “The lady asked me particularly to say that she has only a few minutes to stay, as she is catching a train,” the footman decorously ventured. “If that is the case,” Lady Etynge said, even relievedly, “I will leave you here to look at things until I come back. I really want to talk to you a little more about yourself and Hélène. I can’t let you go.” She looked back from the door before she passed through it. “Amuse yourself, my dear,” and then she added hastily to the man. “Have you remembered that there was something wrong with the latch, William? See if it needs a locksmith.” “Very good, my lady.”