"I am very glad to see you. You will be glad of a cup of tea. Come and sit down."
Jean's face brightened. The words were not much, but the handclasp was firm and true, and the tone brightness itself.
Miss Lorraine carried with her everywhere the impression of sincerity and truth; her blue eyes sought her friends' faces with compelling persuasion and goodwill. They seemed to say, "I see through you and all your outside artificiality, and I like you."
The consequence was she was a general favourite. Her plain-spoken words were always accompanied with a humorous smile that made the truth palatable. A well-known hostess in society said of her once, "Frances Lorraine is a living wonder. She tells the truth to every one, and yet gives no offence. She is the only person in town that can do it."
When Jean was sipping her tea, her eyes found time to look round her. After the large stately rooms at her grandfather's this was a welcome change. It was essentially a living-room, the well-worn books lying about, the work-table, the business-like writing-desk, all testified to that fact; but the fragrant flowers and well-cared-for ferns, the choice pictures and numerous pretty knick-knacks, bespoke the owner's refinement and good taste. A rough-haired Irish terrier sat up with ears erect and eager eyes watching his mistress's every movement. Jean put down her hand and patted him.
"I'm so glad you have a dog," she said.
"You are fond of them? Doughty and I have lived together for many years. It is good to have a silent friend who receives confidences but never passes them on."
Jean pondered over this. Then she looked up and encountered Miss Lorraine's kind blue eyes.
Impulsively she put her cup down and exclaimed, "Oh, Miss Lorraine, I hope you will like me and help me. I am taking a step in the dark, and London is an unknown place to me. Colonel Douglas said you would advise me. Do begin at once. I am longing, bursting, to be at work!"
"We won't waste time, I assure you. London is the place for those who don't like waiting. Everything is rushed."