Audrey, who was only waiting to get this visit over, before going up to town to see Mrs. Webster, and to ask to be put up for the night at her flat, went at once to the room in question, where she found, standing in the middle of the floor, a woman whom she at once set down, in her own mind, as mad. Very tall, very thin, with good if somewhat large features, and white cheeks so sunken as to be filled with black shadow, the nameless visitor stared at her intently out of two large, deep-set black eyes that seemed to pierce like a knife. Her black hair, which was streaked with grey, was arranged in an old-fashioned way in a long curtain on each side of her haggard face, and her dress, which was almost as old-fashioned as the coiffure, was rusty black also. A small black bonnet, almost as plain as that of a nurse, tied with black ribbons under the chin, added to her gaunt and funereal appearance. She spoke at once, and her voice sounded hollow and unnatural, corresponding in all respects to her appearance. Staring intently at Audrey, she said solemnly, almost as if it had been an accusation:-- “Madame Rocada, I believe.” In spite of the oddity of her appearance and dress, there was something in the woman’s deportment which convinced Audrey that she was a lady by birth and breeding, wreck though she had become. She could not have defined her reasons for believing this, nevertheless the consciousness of the fact was strong upon her, and helped to give her a sympathetic interest in her strange visitor. To the first words, however, Audrey replied sharply:-- “No. That is not my name. It is Angmering, Mrs. Angmering.” The visitor frowned. “But you are the lady the girls--my daughters--sent me to see?” “Yes, oh, yes. I had a letter from one of them, and I’ve been expecting you.” As she spoke, she held out the letter, without, however, intending to give it up. Rather to her dismay, the woman snatched it out of her hand. “From my girl, my own girl! One of my own daughters, whom I’m not allowed to see! Who don’t believe in my existence! Oh, it’s more than I can bear!” She broke down suddenly into a sort of hysterical sobbing without tears, and Audrey watched her with mingled sympathy and dismay. Suddenly as she had broken out, she recovered, and, still with the same wild, intent look in her eyes, stared round the room until her gaze had taken in every object within her view. Then she turned abruptly to Audrey, who was getting alarmed by her behaviour. Taking a great stride towards her, the woman in black put her face close to that of the younger woman, and said in a dictatorial tone:-- “You are very beautiful, too beautiful to be good! Who are you?” Amazed at this address, Audrey could only stammer out an incoherent reply which her visitor did not heed. Staring once more round the room, and then bringing her eyes quickly to bear once again upon her victim, she asked as suddenly as before:-- “Now answer me truly. Is _he_ here?”