had been brought into her cheeks by her
exercise and the interest in her work; a little extra flush came now,
with the surprise of this apparition. She was as lovely as one of her
own rose-branches, and the wind had blown her hair about, which was
always wayward, we know, giving perhaps to the great lady the
impression of equal want of training. But she was very lovely, and the
visitor could not take her eyes off her.

"You are Miss--Copley?" she said. "I have heard Mrs. Jersey speak of
you."

"Mrs. Jersey is a very kind friend to me," said Dolly. "Will Lady
Brierley walk in?"

Mrs. Jersey is her friend, thought the lady as she followed Dolly into
the cottage. Probably she is just of that level, and my coming is
thrown away. However, she went in. The little cottage sitting-room was
again something of a puzzle to her; it was not rich, but neither did it
look like anything Mrs. Jersey would have contrived for her own
accommodation. Flowers filled the chimney and stood in vases or
baskets; books lay on one table, on the other drawing materials; and
simple as everything was, there was nevertheless in everything the
evidence, negative as well as positive, that the tastes at home there
were refined and delicate and cultivated. It is difficult to tell just
how the impression comes upon a stranger, but it came upon Lady
Brierley before she had taken her seat. Dolly too, the more she looked
at her, puzzled her. She had set down her basket of roses and thrown
off her garden hat, and now opened the blinds which shaded the room too
much, and took a chair near her visitor. The girl's manner, the lady
saw, was extremely composed; she did not seem at all fluttered at the
honour done her, and offered her attentions with a manner of simple
courtesy which was graceful enough but perfectly cool. So cool, that it
rather excited Lady Brierley's curiosity, who was accustomed to be a
person of great importance wherever she went. Her eye took in swiftly
the neatness of the room, its plainness, and yet its expression of life
and mental activity; the work and workbasket on the chair, the bunch of
ferns and amaranthus in one vase, the roses in another, the violets on
the table, the physiognomy of the books, which were not from the next
circulating library, the drawing materials; and then came back to the
figure seated before her, with the tossed, beautiful hair and the very
delicate, spirited face; and it crossed Lady Brierley's mind, if she