grave and sharply pointed, with dark eyes--sad rather, and of the
pale remote colour that the Virgin in the St. Dreot's east end window
wears. Standing there in the dusky hall, quietly, quite apart from the
little bustle that surrounded her, she seemed to Maggie even in that
first moment like some one wrapt, caught away into her own visions.

"I paid the cabman five shillings," she said very softly. "I hope that
was right. And you are Maggie, are you?"

She bent down and kissed her. Her lips were warm and comforting.
Maggie, who had, when she was shy, something of the off-hand manner of
a boy, said:

"Yes. That's all right. We generally give him four and six."

They went into the dining-room where was Mr. Brassy. He came forward to
them, blowing his words at them, rubbing his hands:

"Miss Cardinal--I am honoured--my name is Brassy, your brother's
lawyer. Very, very sad--so sudden, so sudden. The funeral is at twelve.
If there is anything I can do--"

Miss Cardinal did not regard him at all and Maggie saw that this
annoyed him. The girl watched her aunt, conscious of some strange new
excitement at her heart. She had never seen any one who in the least
resembled this remote silent woman. Maggie did not know what it was
that she had expected, but certainly it had not been this. There was
something in her Aunt's face that recalled her father and her uncle,
something in the eyes, something in the width and height of the
forehead, but this resemblance only accentuated the astounding
difference. Maggie's first impression was her ultimate one--that her
aunt had strayed out of some stained-glass window into a wild world
that did not bewilder her only because she did not seriously regard it.
Maggie found herself wondering who had fastened her aunt's buttons and
strings when she rose in the morning, how had she ever travelled in the
right train and descended at the right station? How could she remember
such trifles when her thoughts were fixed on such distant compelling
dreams? The pale oval face, the black hair brushed back from the
forehead, the thin hands with long tapering fingers, the black dress,
the slender upright body--this figure against the cold bright winter
sunlight was a picture that remained always from that day in Maggie's
soul.

Her aunt looked about her as though she had just awaked from sleep.
"Would you care to come up to your room?" asked Maggie, feeling the
embarrassment of Mr. Brassy's presence.