Later on in the dining-room, when she was reluctantly eating the meal prepared for her-Lucy still slept, or she would have asked to be allowed to have a biscuit by her bedside-Miss Entwhistle said to Chesterton, who attended her, Would she let her know when Mr. Wemyss telephoned, as she wished to speak to him.
She was feeling more and more uneasy as time passed as to what Everard would think of her uninvited presence in his house. It was natural; but would he think so? What wasn't natural was for her to feel uneasy, seeing that the house was also Lucy's, and that the child's face had hardly had room enough on it for the width of her smile of welcome. There, however, it was,-Miss Entwhistle felt like an interloper. It was best to face things. She not only felt like an interloper but, in Ev
