he door was suddenly thrown open, and a
tall, untidy figure made its appearance in the aperture. The daylight
had almost faded, and the fire gave a very uncertain light--perhaps it
was for that reason that Mrs. Colwyn took no notice of Lady Ashley, and
began to speak in a thick, broken voice.

"It's shameful, shameful!" she said. "Visitors all afternoon--never
brought them--t'see me--once. Singing and squalling all the time--not
able to get a wink--wink o' sleep----"

"Oh, please, come away," said Janetta, going hurriedly up to the swaying
figure in the faded dressing-gown, and trying gently to force her
backwards. "I will tell you all about it afterwards; please come away
just now."

"I'll not come away," said Mrs. Colwyn, thickly. "I want some
money--money--send Ph[oe]be for a drop o' gin----"

"I'll go, my dear Miss Colwyn," said Lady Ashley, kindly. She was
touched by the despair in Janetta's face. "I can't do any good, I am
afraid. You shall hear from me again. Don't come to the door. Shall I
send my servants to you?"

"Who's that? Who's that?" screamed the half-maddened woman, beginning to
fling herself wildly out of Janetta's restraining arms. "Let me get at
her, you bad girl! letting people into my house----"

"Can you manage? Do you want help?" said Lady Ashley, quickly.

"No, no, nothing; I can manage if you will only please go," Janetta
cried, in her desperation. And Lady Ashley, seeing that her departure
was really wished for, hurried from the house. And Janetta, after some
wrestling and coaxing and argument, at last succeeded in putting her
stepmother to bed, and then sat down and wept heartily.

What would Lady Ashley think? And how could she now recommend pupils to
go to a house where a drunken woman was liable at any moment to appear
upon the scene?

As a matter of fact, this was just what Lady Ashley was saying at that
moment to her son.

"She is a thorough little gentlewoman, Philip, and a good musician; but,
with _such_ a connection, how can I send any one to the house?"

"It was unlucky, certainly," said Sir Philip, "but you must remember
that you came unexpectedly. Her pupils' hours will be guarded, most
probably, from interruption."

"One could never be sure. I have been thinking of sending Miss Bevan to
her. But suppose a _contretemps_ of this kind occurred! Poor Mary Bevan
would never get over it."

"It is her stepmother, not her own mother," said Sir Philip, after a
little pause