Why was not Martin here?  He had known me in Sark, in Tardif’s cottage, and he would understand how strange and how unlike home all this was to me.

A trim maid was summoned to show us to our rooms, and she eyed us with silent criticism.  She conducted us to a large and lofty apartment, daintily and luxuriously fitted up, with a hundred knick-knacks about it, of which I could not even guess the use.  A smaller room communicated with it which had been evidently furnished for Minima.  The child squeezed my hand tightly as we gazed into it.  I felt as if we were gypsies, suddenly caught, and caged in a splendid captivity.

“Isn’t it awful?” asked Minima, in a whisper; “it frightens me.”

It almost frightened me too.  I was disconcerted also by my own reflection in the long mirror before me.  A rustic, homely peasant-girl, with a brown face and rough hands, looked back at me from the shining surface, wearing a half-Norman dress, for I had not had time to buy more than a bonnet and shawl as we passed through Falaise.  What would Miss Carey think of me?  How should I look in Dr. John’s fastidious eyes?  Would not Martin be disappointed and shocked when he saw me again?

I could not make any change in my costume, and the maid carried off Minima to do what she could with her.  There came a gentle knock at my door, and Miss Carey entered.  Here was the fitting personage to dwell in a house like this.  A delicate gray-silk dress, a dainty lace cap, a perfect self-possession, a dignified presence.  My heart sank low.  But she kissed me affectionately, and smiled as I looked anxiously into her face.

“My dear,” she said, “I hope you will like your room.  John and Martin have ransacked London for pretty things for it.  See, there is a painting of Tardifs cottage in Sark.  Julia has painted it for you.  And here is a portrait of my dear friend, Martin’s mother; he hung it there himself only this morning.  I hope you will soon feel quite at home with us, Olivia.”

Before I could answer, a gong sounded through the house, with a sudden clang that startled me.

We went down to the drawing-room, where Dr. Senior gave me his arm, and led me ceremoniously to dinner.  At this very hour my dear Monsieur Laurentie and mademoiselle were taking their simple supper at the little round table, white as wood could be made by scrubbing, but with no cloth upon it.  My chair and Minima’s would be standing back against the wall.  The tears smarted under my eyelids, and I answered at random to the remarks made to me.  How I longed to be alone for a little while, until I could realize all the change that had come into my life!

We had been in the drawing-room again only a few minutes, when we heard the hall-door opened, and a voice speaking.  By common consent, as it were, every one fell into silence to listen.  I looked up for a moment, and saw that all three of them had turned their eyes upon me; friendly eyes they were, but their scrutiny was intolerable.  Dr. Senior began to talk busily with Miss Carey.