She was startled to consciousness by her landlady's voice.
'There's a lady wishes to see you, Miss Hood.' 'A lady ?' Emily repeated in surprise.

Then it occurred to her that it must be Mrs.Baxendale, who knew her address and was likely to be in London at this time of the year.

'Does she give any name ?' No name.

Emily requested that the visitor should be introduced.
Not Mrs.Baxendale, but a face at first barely remembered, then growing with suggestiveness upon Emily's gaze until all was known save the name attached to it.

A face which at present seemed to bear the pale signs of suffering, though it smiled; a beautiful visage of high meanings, impressive beneath its crown of dark hair.