hining motor roll down the macadamized road which ran through the main
street of the little town. She was out and down the manse path in
hospitable alacrity, yet not without the dignity of which she was
mistress.

So this was the guest whom she had ventured to ask down to the
hospitality of the shabby old village manse! If she had been a princess,
Miss Jeannette Crofton could not more thoroughly have looked the part.
Georgiana had known many rich men's daughters at college and had found
close friends among them, but no one of them had ever suggested such a
background of luxury as did this slim and graceful girl, as she set her
pretty foot upon the old box-bordered gravel path. She was rather small
of stature, her fair-haired beauty was of a strikingly attractive type,
and every detail of her attire and belongings breathed of wealth and
fashion. Georgiana felt herself instantly a buxom milkmaid beside her.

CHAPTER VI

WHEN ROYALTY COMES

"It was so good of you to ask me," said Jeannette in a voice of much
sweetness, as she put out her hand to her cousin. Then she turned to the
man in livery who stood at attention by the door of the car. "You may
take this coat back with you, Dennis," she said; and she let him remove
from her shoulders the long, fur-lined cloak she had worn for the March
drive. He gathered together her belongings, as she walked up the path
with Georgiana, and he afterward went back for a long motor trunk which
had been brought upon the back of the car. Besides this was a larger
receptacle of black leather which he brought and deposited in the hall.

"Dennis can take all these to my room for me," said Jeannette, with more
appreciation of the situation than Georgiana had expected. Dennis did
not look altogether pleased with this task, but he performed it and was
rewarded by a smile from his young mistress, which promised to soothe
his injured dignity at some future time.

Mr. Warne, rising slowly from the armchair as Jeannette was brought
into his presence, looked keenly into the face of his sister's daughter.
Her fine clothing was nothing to him; he could not have told what she
wore; but he was interested in learning what she might be, herself. It
was something of a test for any stranger, the meeting of that clear look
of his, kindly though it was sure to be. With all his appearance of
frailty and exhaustion, one felt instinctively that whatever had
happened to the body, the mind was intact