the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue
cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert
upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry
heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the
withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap
was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd
bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do
duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.

Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat
duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"
it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.

At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.

"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his
charming smile.

"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to
ask?"

"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to
do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had
clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of
timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,
turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to
him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman
back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."

"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your
taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My
orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."

"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily
agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick
caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe
gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.

The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll
take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar
reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be
prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into
the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming
person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How
different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's
words had conjured up when he set out to find her