Sylvia heard the inquiry, and came forwards, with a little rustic awkwardness, feeling both shy and curious.
'Will yo' please walk this way, ma'am ?' said she, leading her visitor back into her own dominion of the parlour, and leaving Bella to Hester's willing care.
'You don't know me!' said the pretty young lady, joyously.

'But I think you knew my husband.

I am Mrs.Kinraid!' A sob of surprise rose to Sylvia's lips--she choked it down, however, and tried to conceal any emotion she might feel, in placing a chair for her visitor, and trying to make her feel welcome, although, if the truth must be told, Sylvia was wondering all the time why her visitor came, and how soon she would go.
'You knew Captain Kinraid, did you not ?' said the young lady, with innocent inquiry; to which Sylvia's lips formed the answer, 'Yes,' but no clear sound issued therefrom.
'But I know your husband knew the captain; is he at home yet?
Can I speak to him?
I do so want to see him.' Sylvia was utterly bewildered; Mrs.Kinraid, this pretty, joyous, prosperous little bird of a woman, Philip, Charley's wife, what could they have in common?
what could they know of each other?
All she could say in answer to Mrs.Kinraid's eager questions, and still more eager looks, was, that her husband was from home, had been long from home: she did not know where he was, she did not know when he would come back.
Mrs.Kinraid's face fell a little, partly from her own real disappointment, partly out of sympathy with the hopeless, indifferent tone of Sylvia's replies.
'Mrs.Dawson told me he had gone away rather suddenly a year ago, but I thought he might be come home by now.

I am expecting the captain early next month.

Oh! how I should have liked to see Mr.Hepburn, and to thank him for saving the captain's life!' 'What do yo' mean ?' asked Sylvia, stirred out of all assumed indifference.