oon, as Mrs. Mumford was making ready to go out,
the servant announced to her that a gentleman had called to see Miss
Derrick; on learning that Miss Derrick was away, he had asked sundry
questions, and ended by requesting an interview with Mrs. Mumford.
His name was Cobb.

'Show him into the drawing-room,' said Emmeline, a trifle agitated.
'I will be down in a few moments.'

Beset by anxious anticipations, she entered the room, and saw before
her a figure not wholly unlike what she had imagined: a wiry,
resolute-looking man, with knitted brows, lips close-set, and heavy
feet firmly planted on the carpet. He was respectably dressed, but
nothing more, and in his large bare hands held a brown hat marked
with a grease spot. One would have judged him a skilled mechanic.
When he began to speak, his blunt but civil phrases were in keeping
with this impression. He had not the tone of an educated man, yet
committed no vulgar errors.

'My name is Cobb. I must beg your pardon for troubling you. Perhaps
you have heard of me from Miss Derrick?'

'Yes, Mr. Cobb, your name has been mentioned,' Emmeline replied
nervously. 'Will you sit down?'

'Thank you, I will.'

He twisted his hat about, and seemed to prepare with difficulty the
next remark, which at length burst, rather than fell, from his lips.

'I wanted to see Miss Derrick. I suppose she is still living with
you? They told me so.'

A terrible man, thought Emmeline, when roused to anger; his words
must descend like sledge-hammers. And it would not take much to
anger him. For all that, he had by no means a truculent countenance.
He was trying to smile, and his features softened agreeably enough.
The more closely she observed him, the less grew Emmeline's wonder
that Louise felt an interest in the man.

'Miss Derrick is likely to stay with us for some time, I believe.
She has only gone to town, to do some shopping.'

'I see. When I met her last she talked a good deal about you, Mrs.
Mumford, and that's why I thought I would ask to see you. You have a
good deal of influence over her.'

'Do you think so?' returned Emmeline, not displeased. 'I hope I may
use it for her good.'

'So do I. But--well, it comes to this, Mrs. Mumford. She seemed to
hint--though she didn't exactly say so--that you were advising her
to have nothing more to do with me. Of course you don't know me, and
I've no doubt you do what you think the best for her. I should feel
it a kindness if you woul