I explained myself and told her the occasion of my visit.
She came in and shut the door carefully after her and, though the fumbling was scarcely perceptible, groped her way to a chair. She had on an old dressing-gown, like a cassock, of a patterned cinnamon colour.
"What is it you want?" she said, seating herself and lifting her blank face to mine.
"Might I just have Arthur's address?" I said deferentially. "I am so sorry to have disturbed you."
"H'm. You have come to see my nephew?"
"Not necessarily to see him, only to hear how he is, and, of course, Mrs. Seaton too. I am afraid my silence must have appeared...."
"He hasn't noticed your silence," croaked the old voice out of the great mask; "besides, there isn't any Mrs. Seaton."
"Ah, then," I answered, after a momentary pause, "I have not seemed so black as I painted myself! And how is Miss Outram?"
"She's gone into Yorkshire," answered Seaton's aunt.
"And Arthur too?"