ssengers, and the poor lady arrived with a trembling
sense of escape from unknown perils at Mrs Hadwin's garden-door. For
Miss Dora was of opinion, like some few other ladies, that to walk
alone down the quietest of streets was to lay herself open to
unheard-of dangers. She put out her trembling hand to ring the bell,
thinking her perils over--for of course Frank would walk home with
her--when the door suddenly opened, and a terrible apparition, quite
unconscious of anybody standing there, marched straight out upon Miss
Dora, who gave a little scream, and staggered backwards, thinking the
worst horrors she had dreamed of were about to be realised. They were
so close together that the terrified lady took in every detail of his
appearance. She saw the patched boots and that shabby coat which Sarah
the housemaid felt that she rather demeaned herself by brushing. It
looked too small for him, as coats will do when they get shabby; and,
to complete the alarming appearance of the man, he had no hat, but
only a little travelling-cap surmounting the redundancy of hair,
mustache, and beard, which were enough of themselves to strike any
nervous woman with terror. "Oh, I beg your pardon," cried poor Miss
Dora, hysterically; "I wanted to see Mr Wentworth;" and she stood
trembling and panting for breath, holding by the wall, not quite sure
that this apparition could be appeased by any amount of apologies. It
was a great comfort to her when the monster took off its cap, and when
she perceived, by the undulations of the beard, something like a smile
upon its hidden lips. "I believe Mr Wentworth is at church," said the
new lodger: "may I have the pleasure of seeing you safely across to St
Roque's?" At which speech Miss Dora trembled more and more, and said,
faintly, "No, thank you,"--for who could tell what the man's
intentions might be? The result was, however, that he only put on his
cap again, and went off like any other human creature in the other
direction, and that slowly; with tremulous steps Miss Dora pursued her
way to her nephew's pretty church. She could not have described, as
she herself said, what a relief it was after all this, to take Frank's
arm, as she met him at the door of St Roque's. He was coming out, and
the young lady with the grey cloak had been one of the congregation;
and, to tell the truth, Miss Dora was an unwelcome addition just then
to the party. Lucy's coming had been accidental, and it was very sweet
to Mr