He had no right to be there, no right, to have seen her father in that terrible condition, that death in life.

And she had behaved like a frightened servant-maid; had not only clung to him--had she clung to him, or was it only fancy ?--but had left him without a word of thanks, had allowed him to wait there, and then had waved her hand to him just as she had seen Jessie, the maid, wave her hand to her "young man" after they had parted, and she was going into the house.
She bit her lip softly and a faint flush rose to the clear pallor of the lovely, girlish face reflected in the glass.

Yes, she had behaved just like a servant-maid, she who in her heart of hearts knew that she prided herself upon her dignity and the good manners which should belong to a Heron of Herondale.

It was characteristic of her that while she thought of his conduct and what she considered her bad behaviour, she gave no thought to the fact that the stranger who had so "intruded" was singularly handsome and possessed of that strange quality which at once impresses women.

Most girls would have remembered the fact, but Ida was different to the general run of her sex.