The stranger did not move. She fixed her eyes on Maud, and stood staring at the girl.
Maud moved slowly and timidly up the room. When within a couple of yards of the other she said:
"I am Miss Midharst. You wish to see me. Will you not take a chair near the fire?"
"Yes, I wanted to see you. I want to see you."
She did not move. Her voice was firm and hard, with a tone of menace in it.
"I—I cannot recall your face, and the servant did not bring your name."
"We never met before. The servant did not bring you any name, for I have none. I am a woman of no name."
"A woman with no name!" cried Maud, with a feeble attempt at a smile. There was no provocation for smiles in the words or manner of the unknown, and Maud felt uneasy.
"Yes; I once had an honourable name, and was connected with honourable people who bore it. But that name was dishonoured by one who owned it, and the name died. My name would not live dishonoured." The voice was firm and hard still, and the original pose unbroken.
"I am sorry for that," murmured Maud, not knowing anything else to say. What a contrast between this unknown visitor and the former! And yet, although a strong contrast appeared, there was a subtler similarity.