Gaunt was standing with an open newspaper in his hand near the window.
She came up and shook hands. He eyed her keenly. This was the first time he had seen her in morning dress. Her white linen was simple and fresh, and she was daintily neat; but there were blue shadows under the melting eyes, and a sad droop of the mouth which spoke of dejection.
"Come, sit down, and pour out my coffee," he said, limping quickly to his own place. "We have much to get through to-day. You must go and see Mrs. Wells, and give the orders for the day." He added, with his "bad smile": "If you are not very good at housekeeping, I don't envy you. She will think very small beer of you."
"It is two years since I had the management of a large house," was the gentle reply, "but I do not think I have forgotten. London housekeeping would seem more difficult to me."
He looked at her, puzzled. "But your mother kept house at Lissendean, I presume?"
"N-no, I don't think mother ever kept house," said Virgie doubtfully. "She used to have a first-rate housekeeper who managed everything when we were little. But afterwards, when I grew up, we were becoming so much poorer, that I told father to dismiss the housekeeper and save her wages, because I thought I could manage. It was wonderful," she added reminiscently, "how much we saved then."
"Perhaps your father was not as particular about his food as I am," he remarked sourly.
"I expect Mrs. Wells knows your likes and dislikes, does she not? If she will help me for the first few weeks, I think I can manage to please you," was the courteous rejoinder.
Gaunt laid down his knife and fork to contemplate her. "In some ways," he said slowly, "it appears that you do _not_ resemble your mother."
"Who? I? Oh, no, I am not a bit like mother, except in looks," calmly replied Virgie. "Did you suppose I was? She is social and I am domestic. She likes going out, and I like home. I am shy with strangers, and she never is." After a minute's thought, she added: "You see, ever since I grew up, I have known the seamy side of things--trouble, losing father, and poverty. I suppose it has made me dull."
The man glowered upon her fixedly as she sat, with an empty plate, sipping her cup of tea.