see, from a complaint in the eyes," replied
Magdalen, steadily keeping her profile toward the window, and carefully
pitching her voice to the tone of Miss Garth's. "I must beg your
permission to wear my veil down, and to sit away from the light."
She said those words, feeling mistress of herself again. With perfect
composure she drew the chair back into the corner of the room beyond the
window and seated herself, keeping the shadow of her bonnet well over
her face. Mrs. Lecount's persuasive lips murmured a polite expression
of sympathy; Mrs. Lecount's amiable black eyes looked more interested in
the strange lady than ever. She placed a chair for herself exactly on
a line with Magdalen's, and sat so close to the wall as to force her
visitor either to turn her head a little further round toward the
window, or to fail in politeness by not looking at the person whom she
addressed. "Yes," said Mrs. Lecount, with a confidential little c ough.
"And to what circumstances am I indebted for the honor of this visit?"

"May I inquire, first, if my name happens to be familiar to you?"
said Magdalen, turning toward her as a matter of necessity, but coolly
holding up her handkerchief at the same time between her face and the
light.

"No," answered Mrs. Lecount, with another little cough, rather harsher
than the first. "The name of Miss Garth is not familiar to me."

"In that case," pursued Magdalen, "I shall best explain the object that
causes me to intrude on you by mentioning who I am. I lived for many
years as governess in the family of the late Mr. Andrew Vanstone, of
Combe-Raven, and I come here in the interest of his orphan daughters."

Mrs. Lecount's hands, which had been smoothly sliding one over the
other up to this time, suddenly stopped; and Mrs. Lecount's lips,
self-forgetfully shutting up, owned they were too thin at the very
outset of the interview.

"I am surprised you can bear the light out-of-doors without a
green shade," she quietly remarked; leaving the false Miss Garth's
announcement of herself as completely unnoticed as it she had not spoken
at all.

"I find a shade over my eyes keeps them too hot at this time of the
year," rejoined Magdalen, steadily matching the housekeeper's composure.
"May I ask whether you heard what I said just now on the subject of my
errand in this house?"

"May I inquire on my side, ma'am, in what way that errand can possibly
concern _me?_" retorted Mrs. Lecount.

"Certainly,"