Good birth and breeding spoke in every phase of her personality,
and in her every movement and gesture. I remembered Parmalee's
hint of unworthy ancestors, and cast it aside as impossible of
belief. She spoke seldom, but occasionally turned to the lady at
her side with a few murmured words that were indubitably those of
comfort or encouragement.

Her companion, a gray-haired, elderly lady, was, of course, Mrs.
Pierce. She was trembling with the excitement of the occasion,
and seemed to depend on Florence Lloyd's strong personality and
affectionate sympathy to keep her from utter collapse.

Mrs. Pierce was of the old school of gentlewomen. Her quiet,
black gown with its crepe trimmings, gave, even to my masculine
eye an effect of correct and fashionable, yet quiet and
unostentatious mourning garb.

She had what seemed to me a puzzling face. It did not suggest
strength of character, for the soft old cheeks and quivering lips
indicated no strong self-control, and yet from her sharp, dark
eyes she now and again darted glances that were unmistakably
those of a keen and positive personality.

I concluded that hers was a strong nature, but shaken to its
foundation by the present tragedy. There was, without doubt, a
great affection existing between her and Miss Lloyd, and yet I
felt that they were not in each other's complete confidence.

Though, for that matter, I felt intuitively that few people