"I will show you your room, Miss Travice; and if——"
"Oh, pray don't call me 'Miss Travice,' or anything so formal," was the young lady's interruption. "Begin with 'Charlotte' at once, or I shall fear you are not glad to see me."
Mrs. Arkell smiled; her young visitor was winning upon her greatly. She led her to a very nice room on the first floor.
"This will be your chamber, my dear; it is over our usual sitting-room. My room and Mr. Arkell's is on the opposite side the corridor, over the drawing-room. You face the street, you see; and across there to the right are the cathedral towers."
"What a charming house you have, Mrs. Arkell! So large and nice."
"It is larger than we require. Let me look at you, my dear, and see what resemblance I can trace. I remember your father and mother."
She held the young lady before her. A very pretty face, certainly—especially now, for Charlotte laughed and blushed.
"Oh, Mrs. Arkell, I am not fit to be seen; I feel as dusty as can be. You cannot think how dusty the roads were; I shall look better to-morrow."
"You have the bright dark eyes and the clear complexion of your father; but I don't see that you are like him in features—yours are prettier. But now, my dear, tell me—in writing to me, did you not think you were writing to Mrs. Daniel Arkell?"
"Mrs. Daniel Arkell! No, I did not. Who is she? I don't remember anything about her."