"Will you describe her to me?"
"She has dark eyes and hair, curly hair, and quite a fair complexion considering that she is half Spanish."
"Her mother is English, not American?"
"No, she is English. She was born here in Sussex and lives with her aunt, Mrs. Manning."
"Miss Beltrán has a haunting voice," remarked the young man, putting his head back wearily. "It hasn't quite the sound of an English girl's."
"I have noticed that," replied Miss Collins. "Probably it is the Spanish influence. Are you tired? Would you like to lie down?"
"No, thank you, I will sit here. Is it dark outside?"
"Not quite yet, but it soon will be. The days are very short now." She left him and passed on to her duties upstairs where there were others more helpless still.
Meantime Anita was borne swiftly home with her mother and Lillian in Mr. Kirkby's car, and arrived to find Mrs. Manning quite in a flutter at having her niece back again. She had ordered hot crumpets for tea and fussed because Tibbie had them ready a little too soon. The dogs gave Mrs. Beltrán a wildly joyous greeting, and Hotspur, roused from his napping, opened a sleepy eye, and yawned, then sat up blinking but looking rather disgusted at being disturbed by all this to-do.
Mr. Kirkby would stop no longer than was necessary to gulp down a cup of tea, and then was off again saying he must get to a meeting he had promised to attend. "Not even for crumpets, dear woman," he said, lifting a protesting hand, "I must get on."