Clara, suffering, followed Paul into the kitchen.

Mrs.Morel rose.

Clara thought her a lady, even rather stiff.

The young woman was very nervous.

She had almost a wistful look, almost resigned.
"Mother--Clara," said Paul.
Mrs.Morel held out her hand and smiled.
"He has told me a good deal about you," she said.
The blood flamed in Clara's cheek.
"I hope you don't mind my coming," she faltered.
"I was pleased when he said he would bring you," replied Mrs.Morel.
Paul, watching, felt his heart contract with pain.