It would be much to say that Mrs. Grinstead was enchanted by this proof of his charms; but they were interrupted by Marshall, the polite, patronizing butler, bringing in a card. Miss Mohun would be glad to know how Mr. Underwood was, and whether there was anything that she could do for Mrs. Grinstead.
Of course she was asked to come in, and thus they met, the quick, slim, active little spinster, whose whole life had been work, and the far younger widow, whose vocation had been chiefly home-making. Their first silent impressions were—
“I hope she is not going to be pathetic,” and—
“She is enough to take one’s breath away. But I think she has tact.”
After a few exchanges of inquiry and answer, Miss Mohun said—
“My niece Gillian is burning to see you, after all your kindness to her.”
“I shall be very glad. This is not quite a land of strangers.”
“I told her I was sure you would not want her to-day.”
“Thank you. My brother is hardly up to afternoon visitors yet, and we have not been able to arrange his refuge.”
“You have transformed this room.”