Suddenly the well-muffed knuckle of the waiter was applied to the door, which presently gave way to his exhibition, even as a glorious trophy, of the card of a visitor.

When this memento had offered to her fixed sight the name of Mr.Caspar Goodwood she let the man stand before her without signifying her wishes.
"Shall I show the gentleman up, ma'am ?" he asked with a slightly encouraging inflexion.
Isabel hesitated still and while she hesitated glanced at the mirror.
"He may come in," she said at last; and waited for him not so much smoothing her hair as girding her spirit.
Caspar Goodwood was accordingly the next moment shaking hands with her, but saying nothing till the servant had left the room.

"Why didn't you answer my letter ?" he then asked in a quick, full, slightly peremptory tone--the tone of a man whose questions were habitually pointed and who was capable of much insistence.
She answered by a ready question, "How did you know I was here ?" "Miss Stackpole let me know," said Caspar Goodwood.

"She told me you would probably be at home alone this evening and would be willing to see me." "Where did she see you--to tell you that ?" "She didn't see me; she wrote to me." Isabel was silent; neither had sat down; they stood there with an air of defiance, or at least of contention.

"Henrietta never told me she was writing to you," she said at last.