Part Three Poet and Angel Chapter 34 Rewards of Fame

"If you please, sir, a lady to see Mr. Alwyn. Shall I show her up?"

Villiers rose slowly out of his chair, and stood eyeing his man in blank bewilderment.

"A LADY! ... To see Mr. Alwyn!"--he repeated, his thoughts instantly reverting to his friend's vaguely hinted love-affair,-- "What name?"

"She gives no name, sir. She says it isn't needed,--Mr. Alwyn will know who she is."

"Mr. Alwyn will know who she is, will he?" murmured Villiers dubiously.--"What is she like? Young and pretty?"

Over the man-servant's staid countenance came the glimmer of a demure, respectful smile.

"Oh no, sir,--not young, sir! A person about fifty, I should say."

This was mystifying. A person about fifty! Who could she be? Villiers hastily considered,--there must be some mistake, he thought,--at any rate, he would see the unknown intruder himself first, and find out what her business was, before breaking in upon Alwyn's peaceful studies upstairs.

"Show the lady in here"--he said--"I can't disturb Mr. Alwyn just now."

The servant retired, and soon re-appeared, ushering in a tall, gaunt, black-robed female, who walked with the stride of a dragoon and the demeanor of a police-inspector, and who, merely nodding briskly in response to Villiers's amazed bow, selected with one comprehensive glance the most comfortable chair in the room, and seated herself at ease therein. She then put up her veil, displaying a long, narrow face, cold, pale, arrogant eyes, a nose inclined to redness at the tip, and a thin, close-set mouth lined with little sarcastic wrinkles, which came into prominent and unbecoming play as soon as she began to speak, which she did almost immediately.