Katie Durant, sitting with a happy smile on her fair face, and good-will in her sweet heart to all mankind—womankind included, which says a good deal for her—was busy with a beautiful sketch of a picturesque watermill, meditating on the stirring scene she had so recently witnessed, when a visitor was announced.
“Who can it be?” inquired Katie; “papa is out, you know, and no one can want me.”
The lodging-house keeper, Mrs Cackles, smiled at the idea of no one wanting Katie, knowing, as she did, that there were at least twenty people who would have given all they were worth in the world to possess her, either in the form of wife, sister, daughter, friend governess, or companion.
“Well, miss, she do wants you, and says as no one else will do.”
“Oh, a lady, please show her in, Mrs Cackles.”
“Well, she ain’t a lady, either, though I’ve seen many a lady as would give their weight in gold to be like her.”
So saying the landlady departed, and in a few seconds introduced Nora.
“Miss Jones!” cried Katie, rising with a pleased smile and holding out her hand; “this is a very unexpected pleasure.”
“Thank you, Miss Durant. I felt sure you would remember me,” said Nora, taking a seat, “and I also feel sure that you will assist me with your advice in a matter of some difficulty, especially as it relates to the boy about whose sick brother you came to me at Yarmouth some time ago—you remember?”
“Oh! Billy Towler,” exclaimed Katie, with animation; “yes, I remember; you are right in expecting me to be interested in him. Let me hear all about it.”