After some delay a parlour-maid presented herself with the announcement that there was a person outside who was asking to see Miss Bart; and on Lily’s pressing for a more specific description, she added: “It’s Mrs. Haffen, Miss; she won’t say what she wants.” Lily, to whom the name conveyed nothing, opened the door upon a woman in a battered bonnet, who stood firmly planted under the hall-light. The glare of the unshaded gas shone familiarly on her pock-marked face and the reddish baldness visible through thin strands of straw-coloured hair. Lily looked at the char-woman in surprise. “Do you wish to see me?” she asked. “I should like to say a word to you, Miss.” The tone was neither aggressive nor conciliatory: it revealed nothing of the speaker’s errand. Nevertheless, some precautionary instinct warned Lily to withdraw beyond ear-shot of the hovering parlour-maid. She signed to Mrs. Haffen to follow her into the drawing-room, and closed the door when they had entered. “What is it that you wish?” she enquired. The char-woman, after the manner of her kind, stood with her arms folded in her shawl. Unwinding the latter, she produced a small parcel wrapped in dirty newspaper. “I have something here that you might like to see, Miss Bart.” She spoke the name with an unpleasant emphasis, as though her knowing it made a part of her reason for being there. To Lily the intonation sounded like a threat. “You have found something belonging to me?” she asked, extending her hand. Mrs. Haffen drew back. “Well, if it comes to that, I guess it’s mine as much as anybody’s,” she returned. Lily looked at her perplexedly. She was sure, now, that her visitor’s manner conveyed a threat; but, expert as she was in certain directions, there was nothing in her experience to prepare her for the exact significance of the present scene. She felt, however, that it must be ended as promptly as possible. “I don’t understand; if this parcel is not mine, why have you asked for me?” The woman was unabashed by the question. She was evidently prepared to answer it, but like all her class she had to go a long way back to make a beginning, and it was only after a pause that she replied: “My husband was janitor to the Benedick till the first of the month; since then he can’t get nothing to do.” Lily remained silent and she continued: “It wasn’t no fault of our own, neither: the agent had another man he wanted the place for, and we was put out, bag and baggage, just to suit his fancy. I had a long sickness last winter, and an operation that ate up all we’d put by; and it’s hard for me and the children, Haffen being so long out of a job.”