e on Miss Rolls's face was encouraging. It was dimly like Peter's
smile, and there was a certain family resemblance about the faces:
both dark, with eager eyes that seemed light in contrast with
dead-black hair, but the eagerness of Miss Rolls's look was different
from the eagerness of her brother's. His was slightly wistful in its
search for something he did not yet know. Hers was dissatisfied,
searching for something she wanted and had not got.

He was a lean young man, not very tall, but with rather the air of an
ex-college athlete. She was a plump, short girl, somewhat square in
build, but distinctly handsome, showing beautiful teeth in her cordial
smile. If the smile had been less cordial Miss Child might have
conceived the catty idea that the magnificent ruby-velvet hooded
evening cloak had been put on to impress the humble new acquaintance.
However, it would have been mean to suspect a sister of Mr. Balm of
Gilead of such a snobbish trick. And there _was_ the smile.

"Miss Child, I'm very pleased to meet you," said the handsome girl
warmly, just as her brother had hopefully prophesied. "Peter's told me
quite a lot about you. I think you're awfully brave."

"Perhaps one doesn't deserve much credit for courage in doing a thing
one wants to do," answered Winifred, her slim, ringless hand
responding to the kind pressure of the plump one wearing too many
rings. (They were all rubies to-night. Miss Rolls had read about a
wonderful Russian woman before whom men went down like ninepins and
who always matched her dresses with her jewels.)

Yes, Ena thought, Peter was right; the creature was a lady. She had a
soft, throaty voice, like a blackbird when it talks to itself, and oh,
a _creamy_ accent! Miss Rolls would have given anything to extract it,
like pith, from the long white stem in which it seemed to live. She
would have been willing to pay well for it, and for Miss Child's
length of limb, so necessary to show off the latest fashions. She saw
and appreciated the odd, golliwog charm of wide-apart eyes under high
arch of brow. And the full, laughing mouth, with the short upper lip,
was beautiful, like the mouths of marvellous girls on magazine covers.
The creature looked brave and rather sweet, and Miss Rolls was quite
sorry for her; but the thing had to be done.

"Petro, you go away and let us have a talk," said Petro's kind sister
gayly. "Two is company; three's none."

And Petro went, thinking Ena the grandest