Miss Anna sat and looked on politely attentive, but at the same time ostentatiously indifferent. “It is very sad,” she said. “It is impossible to tell you how sorry I am; but I never heard of Mr Yorke in my life. Geoffrey, that is true, it is very difficult to get a cab; go and look for one. I cannot permit these young ladies to wander away alone in a strange place. Go, Geoff, go!” She was very anxious to be rid of him; her voice took the imperious tone, which he had obeyed so often, but he did not seem disposed to obey now. “A fortnight ago,” he said, “on a dark afternoon, turning to rain?” “Yes, yes! you remember--oh, do you remember?--and afterwards we saw you at the hotel.” The two girls spoke both together, one saying the former part, the other the latter of the sentence, both turning upon him with the most anxious eyes, gazing, trying to penetrate into his inmost soul. “Geoff, why do you stand there?” cried Miss Anna. She, too, became energetic, and more and more imperious. “Go, I tell you, and get a cab for them. Two strangers, and far from where they are living. You know what your mother will think of such visitors. Go, directly, as I tell you.” She stamped as she spoke, first her stick and then her foot, impatiently on the floor. “This cannot be settled so summarily,” said Geoffrey; “there is more in it. It is not necessary that we should stay in your room, Aunt Anna, if you dislike it; but I wish these ladies to remain till my mother sees them----” “Your mother, who always believes everything that is said to her! Let there be an end to this folly at once, Geoff; go and get a cab.” “Aunt Anna, there had better be no struggle between us--yet. What I ask is very simple--that they should see my mother.” “Do you want to see his mother?” she said, suddenly turning upon the astonished girls. “You have made acquaintance with him, I can see; but mothers have sharp eyes, and his mother thinks every girl she sees is in love with her fascinating son. Can’t he see you at some other place? I warn you my sister will give you no pleasant reception if she finds you here.” “Grace, Grace, let us go away,” cried Milly, rising to her feet, scarlet with shame; but Grace had other things to think of, and paid no attention to this assault. “I don’t want to be harsh,” continued Miss Anna; “but if you are good girls it will be much better for you to go away at once. I don’t say you are not good girls, far from it. I don’t pretend to judge; but girls of your age should not be going about to strange houses without invitation, especially where there is a young man. It has a strange look--your people would not like it. I advise you as your friend to go away.”