She was still bending over the sheet of paper spread out on her knee
when, with a knock at the door, the servant entered, saying:
"A gentleman to see you, Miss."
Hastily brushing away the traces from her cheeks, Miss Martyn rose, to
see a tall, grey-haired man standing in the doorway, regarding her with
a bright smile on his face.
She did not recognise him; he was a stranger to her, and yet----
The next moment he strode forward with outstretched hand.
"Selina Martyn, don't you know me? And you have altered so little!"
A moment longer she stood in doubt, and then with a little gasp
exclaimed:
[Sidenote: "Edgar!"]
"Edgar! Mr. Freeman--I--I didn't know you. You--you see, it is so long
since--since I had that pleasure."
And while she was speaking she was endeavouring with her foot to draw
out of sight the paper that had fallen from her lap when she had risen.
He noticed her apron, and with an "Excuse me" bent down, and, picking it
up, laid it on the table. As he did so his eyes fell for a moment on the
writing, and he started slightly, but did not refer to it.
"Thank you," she said, and her cheeks had suddenly lost their colour,
and her hand trembled as she indicated an armchair on the other side of
the fireplace, saying, "Won't you sit down?"
He did so, easily and naturally, as though paying an ordinary afternoon
call.
"Selina Martyn, you're looking remarkably well, and nearly as young as
ever," he continued.
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