service of good feeling expressed her nature.

Her visit this time would be specially interesting, for she had
passed the winter in Finland, amid the intellectual society of
Helsingfors. Letters had given a foretaste of what she would have to
tell, but Irene was no great letter-writer. She had an impatience of
remaining seated at a desk. She did not even read very much. Her
delight was in conversation, in movement, in active life. For
several years her father had made her his companion, as often as
possible, in holiday travel and on the journeys prompted by
scientific study. Though successful as a medical man, Dr. Derwent no
longer practised; he devoted himself to pathological research, and
was making a name in the world of science. His wife, who had died
young, left him two children; the elder, Eustace, was an amiable and
intelligent young man, but had small place in his father's life
compared with that held by Irene.

She was to arrive at Ewell in time for luncheon. Her brother would
bring her, and return to London in the afternoon.

Olga walked to the station to meet them. Mrs. Hannaford having paid
unusual attention to her dress--she had long since ceased to care
how she looked, save on very exceptional occasions--moved
impatiently, nervously, about the house and the garden. Her age was
not yet forty, but a life of disappointment and unrest had dulled
her complexion, made her movements languid, and was beginning to
touch with grey her soft, wavy hair. Under happier circumstances she
would have been a most attractive woman; her natural graces were
many, her emotions were vivid and linked with a bright intelligence,
her natural temper inclined to the nobler modes of life.