Miss Shuttleworth stiffly inclined her head, but did not make any overtures towards shaking hands. ‘Will you not sit down, Mr. Wellfield?’ said Nita, pointing to a chair, which he took, and she went on: ‘Have you just arrived in Wellfield?’ ‘I arrived about an hour and a half ago. I have been looking at my house—Monk’s Gate.’ ‘Oh, have you? It is a pretty little house.’ ‘Very. So humble and unobtrusive-looking,’ said Jerome. ‘And damp,’ observed Miss Shuttleworth; and though she did not speak loudly, she spoke in a manner which made it impossible to ignore her remarks. Indeed, whenever Miss Shuttleworth spoke, an impartial observer must have said that she put a portentous amount of expression into her utterances. ‘You think it is damp?’ said Jerome, politely turning to her, while Nita’s colour rose, and her fingers trifled nervously with her watch-chain. ‘I know it to be damp,’ responded Miss Shuttleworth, in a manner which Jerome, unaccustomed to her as he was, felt imperatively called for a reply, or another question of some kind. ‘So damp as to make it unadvisable to live there?’ he inquired. ‘I should say it was a most unhealthy house to live in. If you _wish_ to become rheumatic at once, and to grow old before your years, by all means live at Monk’s Gate.’ ‘As it is all the home I now possess,’ responded Jerome, ‘it is probable that I shall live there, despite the disadvantages you mention.’ ‘All the home you possess?’ repeated Nita, and Jerome turned to her with a sense of pleasure in the contrast between her and her relative. Miss Shuttleworth absolutely revolted him with her plainness, her hard features, her metallic voice, and her unengaging manner. In comparison, Nita, though not a beauty, looked charming. He met her soft brown eyes with pleasure, and saw the slight shyness, the little air of timidity and shrinking, with feelings of complacency. At this juncture Mr. Bolton rose, remarking: ‘Well, I’ll leave Mr. Wellfield to you to entertain. I have some writing to do. I suppose I shall see you at supper, Margaret?’ ‘Not to-night, thank you. I have my Bible class, and shall have to go in about an hour.’ ‘Oh, well, come to-morrow, or as often as you can, at any rate,’ he answered; and with a general inclination of the head to the company, he departed. Jerome looked after him, as he went down the river walk, and realised that the whole figure, though plebeian, was powerful, not without a certain air, too, of dignity and command. He turned to Nita again. ‘Mr. Bolton has very kindly asked me to stay a few days at the Abbey, until I have decided what to do with Monk’s Gate, or rather until I see whether I can find some employment, which will allow me to live at Monk’s Gate, as I hope to do.’ ‘Yes,’ said Nita, with a look of embarrassment; ‘but—but—I suppose I ought not to say it——’ ‘If it is a personal question, Nita, to a total stranger, you ought certainly _not_ to say it,’ here chimed in Miss Shuttleworth’s voice.