Her heart beat violently until the answer came.

She had been successful.
"Will you, indeed ?" Beatrice exclaimed.

"I am poor company, but I shall be very glad if you will come in." She opened her door, and Unorna entered.

The apartment was almost exactly like her own in size and shape and furniture, but it already had the air of being inhabited.

There were books upon the table, and a square jewel-case, and an old silver frame containing a large photograph of a stern, dark man in middle age--Beatrice's father, as Unorna at once understood.