e at Herne Hill the sisters were both in a
state of nervous tremor. Monica had only the vaguest idea of the kind
of person Mrs. Luke Widdowson would prove to be, and Virginia seemed to
herself to be walking in a dream.

'Have you been here often?' whispered the latter, as soon as they came
in view of the place. Its aspect delighted her, but the conflict of her
emotions was so disturbing that she had to pause and seek the support
of her sister's arm.

'I've never been inside,' Monica answered indistinctly. 'Come; we shall
be unpunctual.'

'I do wish you would tell me, dear--'

'I can't talk, Virgie. Try and keep quiet, and behave as if it were all
quite natural.'

This was altogether beyond Virginia's power. It happened most luckily,
though greatly to Widdowson's annoyance, that the sister-in-law, Mrs.
Luke Widdowson, arrived nearly half an hour later than the time she had
appointed. Led by the servant into a comfortable drawing-room, the
visitors were received by the master of the house alone; with a grim
smile, the result of his embarrassment, with profuse apologies and a
courtesy altogether excessive, Widdowson did his best to put them at
their ease--of course with small result. The sisters side by side on a
settee at one end of the room, and the host seated far away from them,
they talked with scarcely any understanding of what was said on either
side--the weather and the vastness of London serving as topics--until
of a sudden the door was thrown open, and there appeared a person of
such imposing presence that Virginia gave a start and Monica gazed in
painful fascination. Mrs. Luke was a tall and portly woman in the prime
of life, with rather a high colour; her features were handsome, but
without much refinement, their expression a condescending good-humour.
Her mourning garb, if mourning it could be called, represented an
extreme of the prevailing fashion; its glint and rustle inspired awe in
the female observer. A moment ago the drawing-room had seemed empty;
Mrs. Luke, in her sole person, filled and illumined it.

Widdowson addressed this resplendent personage by her Christian name,
his familiarity exciting in Monica an irrational surprise. He presented
the sisters to her, and Mrs. Luke, bowing grandly at a distance, drew
from her bosom a gold-rimmed _pince-nez_, through which she scrutinized
Monica. The smile which followed might have been interpreted in several
senses; Widdowson, alone capable of remarkin