He turned his glance towards the opening door. Robin came in with some letters in her hand. He was vaguely aware that she wore an aspect he was unfamiliar with. The girl of Mrs. Gareth-Lawless had in the past, as it went without saying, expressed the final note of priceless simplicity and mode. The more finely simple she looked, the more priceless. The unfamiliarity in her outward seeming lay in the fact that her quiet dun tweed dress with its lines of white at neck and wrists was not priceless though it was well made. It, in fact, unobtrusively suggested that it was meant for service rather than for adornment. Her hair was dressed closely and her movements were very quiet. Coombe realized that her greeting of him was delicately respectful. “I have finished the letters,” she said to the Duchess. “I hope they are what you want. Sometimes I am afraid——” “Don’t be afraid,” said the Duchess kindly. “You write very correct and graceful little letters. They are always what I want. Have you been out today?” “Not yet.” Robin hesitated a little. “Have I your permission to ask Mrs. James if it will be convenient to her to let Dowie go with me for an hour?” “Yes,” as kindly as before. “For two hours if you like. I shall not drive this afternoon.” “Thank you,” said Robin and went out of the room as quietly as she had entered it. When the door closed the Duchess was smiling at Lord Coombe. “I understand her,” she said. “She is sustained and comforted by her pretty air of servitude. She might use Dowie as her personal maid and do next to nothing, but she waits upon herself and punctiliously asks my permission to approach Mrs. James the housekeeper with any request for a favour. Her one desire is to be sure that she is earning her living as other young women do when they are paid for their work. I should really like to pet and indulge her, but it would only make her unhappy. I invent tasks for her which are quite unnecessary. For years the little shut-up soul has been yearning and praying for this opportunity to stand honestly on her own feet and she can scarcely persuade herself that it has been given to her. It must not be spoiled for her. I send her on errands my maid could perform. I have given her a little room with a serious business air. It is full of files and papers and she sits in it and copies things for me and even looks over accounts. She is clever at looking up references. I have let her sit up quite late once or twice searching for detail and dates for my use. It made her bloom with joy.” “You are quite the most delightful woman in the world,” said Coombe. “Quite.” CHAPTER XXIX