"Pretty, yes; a housemaid, no," explained Mr. Churchouse. "She is the daughter of my housekeeper, Mrs. Dinnett. Mrs. Dinnett has been called to Chilcombe, to see her old mother who is, I fear, going to die, and so Sabina, with her usual kindness, has spent her half-holiday at home to look after me. Sabina lives here. She is Mrs. Dinnett's daughter and one of the spinners at the mill. In fact, Mr. Best tells me she is his most accomplished spinner and has genius for the work. In her leisure she does braiding at home, as many of the girls do." "She's jolly handsome," declared Raymond. "She's chucked away in a place like this." "D'you mean 'The Magnolias'?" asked the elder mildly. "No, not 'The Magnolias' particularly, but Bridetown in general." "And why should Bridetown be denied the privilege of numbering a beautiful girl amongst its population?" "Oh--why--she's lost, don't you see. Working in a stuffy mill, she's lost. If she was on the stage, then thousands would see her. A beautiful thing oughtn't to be hidden away." "God Almighty hides away a great many beautiful things," answered Mr. Churchouse. "There are many beautiful things in our literature and our flora and fauna that are never admired." "So much the worse. When our fauna blossoms out in the shape of a lovely girl, it ought to be seen and give pleasure to thousands." Ernest smiled. "I don't think Sabina has any ambition to give pleasure to thousands. She is a young woman of very fine temper, with a dignified sense of her own situation and an honest pride in her own dexterity." "Engaged to be married, of course?" "I think not. She and her mother are my very good friends. Had any betrothal taken place, I feel sure I should have heard of it." "Do ring for her, Mr. Churchouse, and let me look at her again. Does she know how good-looking she is?" "Youth! Youth! Yes, not being a fool, she knows she is well-favoured--much as you do, no doubt. I mean that you cannot shave yourself every morning without being conscious that you are in the Greek mould. I could show you the engraving of a statue by Praxiteles which is absurdly like you. But this accident of nature has not made you vain." "Me! Good Lord!" Raymond laughed long. "Do not be puffed up," continued Mr. Churchouse, "for, with charm, you combine to a certain extent the Greek vacuity. There are no lines upon your brow. You don't think enough." "Don't I, by Jove! I've been thinking a great deal too much lately. I've had a headache once." "Lack of practice, my dear boy. Sabina, being a woman of observation and intelligence, is no doubt aware of the fact that she is unusually personable. But she has brains and knows exactly what importance to attach to such an accident. If you want to learn what spinning means, she will be able to teach you." "Every cloud has a silver lining, apparently," said Raymond, and when Sabina returned, Ernest introduced him. The girl was clad in black with a white apron. She wore no cap.