She rose in a flutter, and rushing to the door threw it open, with an air of eager welcome and arch discovery; but recoiled a step before the unknown personage, large, silent, with his big beard and watchful aspect, who stood listening and uncertain outside. “Oh!” she cried, and fell back, not without a start of dismay. Mrs Ogilvy’s pride did not tolerate any denial of her son, who stood there, making signs to her which she declined to notice. “This is my son,” she said, “the master of the house. He has just come back after a long time away.” “Oh--Mr Ogilvy!” the lady faltered. She was anxious to please everybody, but she was evidently frightened, though it was difficult to tell why. “How pleased you must be to have your son come back at last!” He paused disconcerted on the threshold. “I did not mean to--disturb you, mother--I did not know there was anybody here.” “Don’t upbraid me, please, with coming at such untimely hours,” she cried. Mrs Ainslie was in a flutter of consciousness, rubbing her gloved hands, laughing a little hysterically, but more than ever anxious to please, and instinctively putting on her little panoply of airs and graces. “I had business. I had indeed. It was not a mere call meaning nothing. Your mother will tell you, Mr Ogilvy----” She let her veil drop over her face, with a tremulous movement, and almost cringed while she flattered him, with little flutterings and glances of incomprehensible meaning. The woman was trying to cast her spells over Robbie! There flew through Mrs Ogilvy’s mind a sensation which was not all disagreeable. “The woman” was odious to her; but she was a well-looking woman, and not an ignorant one, knowing something of the world; and Robert, with his big beard and his rough clothes, had given Mrs Ogilvy the profoundly humiliating consciousness that he had ceased to look like a gentleman; but the woman did not think so. The woman made her little coquettish advances to him as if he had been a prince. This was how his mother interpreted her visitor’s looks: she thought no better of her for this, but yet the sensation was soothing, and raised her spirits,--even though she scorned the woman for it, and her son for the hesitating smile which after a moment began to light up his face. “However,” said the lady, hurriedly, “unless you wish for the minister on my heels, perhaps I had better go now. No? you will not be persuaded, indeed? You are more hard-hearted than I expected. So then there is nothing for it but that I must do it myself. There, Mr Ogilvy! You see we have secrets after all--mysteries! Two women can’t meet together, can they, without having something tremendous, some conspiracy or other, for each other’s ears?” “I did not say so,” said Robert, not unresponsive, though taken by surprise.