"Mrs. Baldwin," said the voice of the footman, and he threw open the door. In a moment Mrs. Fane was her conventional self, and was holding out her hand to the visitor. "How good of you to come," she said in her sweetest tones. "Laura and I were acting a scene in a play she is going to appear in. Amateur theatricals, you know," said Mrs. Fane, giving the old lady no time to speak. "She takes the part of a girl who is rather tragic. Do sit down, Mrs. Baldwin. The tea will be up soon. How well you are looking." Bewildered under this torrent of words Mrs. Baldwin, whose brain never moved very fast, sat down on the sofa and tried to recover herself. Laura, thankful to Julia for once in her life, concealed the dagger in her pocket and retired to the window to recover her calmness. The accusation of Julia had taken her by surprise, and she had been thrown off her guard. As a matter of fact she did know something, but Julia with her unsympathetic manner was the last person in whom she felt inclined to confide. The two sisters in dispositions and tastes were as far asunder as the poles. Mrs. Baldwin looked like a bird of paradise that had been out all night in the rain. She was dressed in an ill-assorted assemblage of colours. Some of her clothes were bran-new; others quite ancient. Her gloves were different in size and colour, so evidently she had snatched up one of Gerty's in a hurry. In fact, she seemed to have dressed hastily, so uneasy was the set of her clothes. And from the very candid confession that followed it appeared that she had, as she put it, "taken the first things that came to hand." "If I had waited, I never should have made up my mind to come," said Mrs. Baldwin in her complacent voice. "But after the professor told me, I felt it was my duty to be the first to congratulate Miss Mason. Such a change in the young man's prospects, ain't it?" "Are you talking of Mr. Calvert?" asked Mrs. Fane quickly, and with a side-glance at Laura. "Of whom else?" responded Mrs. Baldwin genially. "My girl--Gerty's her name--told me of the affection between Miss Mason and Mr.----" "Don't speak of it," interposed Laura, annoyed that this gossiping woman should interfere in so delicate an affair. "Oh yes, do, Mrs. Baldwin," said Julia sweetly. "We were just talking about Mr. Calvert when you came in." "I thought you were acting a play." "Quite so," rejoined Mrs. Fane, still sweetly. "And Mr. Calvert is to act the lover. I was supposed to be the lover at rehearsal," she added playfully. Laura did not contradict these enormous lies, as she would only have had an unpleasant quarter of an hour with Julia when the visitor left. "Who is the professor?" she asked, to change the conversation. "Why, my dear, you know him. The dark gentleman who occupies the damp little house at the end of the meadow." "Yes, I believe he did speak to me once. But we had little conversation. What did he tell you about Arnold--Mr. Calvert?"