ttens. She had a little leather bag kept ready, that held a handkerchief, a bottle of water, and scissors: she had me carry this, not saying what the scissors were for—I supposed she meant to cut flowers. She took me down the great staircase to the door, and Mr Way heard us and came running to throw back the bolts. ''How do you do, Miss Maud?'' he said, making a bow; and then: And you, Miss Smith.'' The hall was dark. When we went outside we stood blinking, our hands at our eyes against the sky and the watery sun. The house had seemed grim when I first saw it, at night, in the
fog and I should like to say it seemed less grim when you saw it by daylight; but it seemed worse. I suppose it had been grand enough once, but now its chimneys were leaning like drunks, and its roof was green with moss and birds'' nests. It was covered all over with a dead kind of creeper, or with the stains where a creeper had long ago crept; and all about the foot of the walls were the chopped-off trunks of ivy. It had a great front door, split down the middle; but rain had made the wood swell, they only ever opened up one half. Maud had to press her crinoline flat, and walk quite sideways, in order to leave the house at all.
It was odd to see her stepping out of that gloomy place, like a pearl coming out of an oyster.
It was odder to watch her going back in, and see the oyster shell open, then shut at her back.