illed on it, "Wishes
particularly to see you--has important business." Her lips trembled.
Nothing could be more embarrassing and painful than such a visitation.
The disagreeable memory of Mr. Sheppard and of the part of her life to
which he belonged had been banished from her thoughts, at least except
for occasional returning glimpses, and now here was Mr. Sheppard himself
in London and asserting a right to see her. She could not refuse him,
for he did, perhaps, come to her with some message from those in Keeton
who still would have called themselves her family. Mary Blanchet had
only just gone out, and Minola was left to talk with Mr. Sheppard alone.
For a moment she had a wild idea of begging Victor Heron to stay and
bear her company during the interview. But she put this thought away
instantly, and made up her mind that she had better hear what Mr.
Sheppard had to say alone.

"Show the gentleman in, Jane," she said, as composedly as she could. "A
friend--at least a friend of my people, from my old place, Mr. Heron."

Heron was looking at her, she thought, in a manner that showed he had
noticed her embarrassment.

"Well, I must wish you a good morning," Mr. Heron said. "Be sure I
shan't forget what you were saying."

"Thank you--yes; what was I saying?"

"Oh, the very good advice you were giving me; and I propose to hear it
all out another time. Good morning."

"Don't go for a moment--pray don't?" she asked, with an earnestness
which surprised Victor. "Only a moment--I would rather you didn't go
just yet."

The thought suddenly went through her that Mr. Sheppard was the very man
to put an exaggerated meaning on the slightest thing that seemed to hint
at secrecy of any kind, and that she had better take care to let him
see, face to face, what sort of visitor was with her when he came.
Victor was glad in any case of the chance of remaining a few moments
longer, and was in no particular hurry to go so long as he could think
he was not in anybody's way.

Victor Heron stood, hat in hand, on the hearth-rug near the
chimney-piece. As Mr. Sheppard entered, Heron was the first person he
happened to see, and the entirely unexpected sight surprised him. He
glanced confusedly from Heron to Minola before he spoke a word, and his
manner, always stiff and formal, seemed to acquire in a moment an
additional incubus of constraint. Victor Heron had something about him
which did not seem exactly English, and which, to a provin