[She accelerates the stolid Tissy’s departure with a smack, searches under the seat, finds and picks up the deserted sixpence.  Then very quickly she goes to the door:  But it is opened before she reaches it, and, finding herself caught, she slips behind the chintz window-curtain.  A woman has entered, who is clearly the original of the large photograph.  She is not strictly pretty, but there is charm in her pale, resolute face, with its mocking lips, flexible brows, and greenish eyes, whose lids, square above them, have short, dark lashes.  She is dressed in blue, and her fair hair is coiled up under a cap and motor-veil.  She comes in swiftly, and closes the door behind her; becomes irresolute; then, suddenly deciding, moves towards the door into the house.  Mercy slips from behind her curtain to make off, but at that moment the door into the house is opened, and she has at once to slip back again into covert.  It is Ivy who has appeared.]

Ivy. [Amazed] Oh!  Mrs. Strangway!

     [Evidently disconcerted by this appearance, Beatrice Strangway
     pulls herself together and confronts the child with a smile.]

Beatrice.  Well, Ivy—­you’ve grown!  You didn’t expect me, did you?

Ivy.  No, Mrs. Strangway; but I hoped yu’d be comin’ soon.

Beatrice.  Ah!  Yes.  Is Mr. Strangway in?

Ivy. [Hypnotized by those faintly smiling lips] Yes—­oh, yes!  He’s writin’ his sermon in the little room.  He will be glad!

Beatrice. [Going a little closer, and never taking her eyes off the child] Yes.  Now, Ivy; will you do something for me?

Ivy. [Fluttering] Oh, yes, Mrs. Strangway.

Beatrice.  Quite sure?

Ivy.  Oh, yes!

Beatrice.  Are you old enough to keep a secret?

Ivy. [Nodding] I’m fourteen now.

Beatrice.  Well, then—­, I don’t want anybody but Mr. Strangway to know I’ve been here; nobody, not even your mother.  D’you understand?

Ivy. [Troubled] No.  Only, I can keep a secret.

Beatrice.  Mind, if anybody hears, it will hurt Mr. Strangway.

Ivy.  Oh!  I wouldn’t—­hurt—­him.  Must yu go away again? [Trembling towards her] I wish yu wer goin’ to stay.  And perhaps some one has seen yu—­They——­

Beatrice. [Hastily] No, no one.  I came motoring; like this. [She moves her veil to show how it can conceal her face] And I came straight down the little lane, and through the barn, across the yard.

Ivy. [Timidly] People du see a lot.

Beatrice. [Still with that hovering smile] I know, but——­Now go and tell him quickly and quietly.

Ivy. [Stopping at the door] Mother’s pluckin’ a duck.  Only, please, Mrs. Strangway, if she comes in even after yu’ve gone, she’ll know, because—­because yu always have that particular nice scent.