She has grown up into a very tall girl.

You will hardly recognize her, I expect." And at that instant Halcyone opened the door and said a quiet word of welcome.

And if her heart beat rather faster than usual under her simple serge bodice, nothing of any emotion showed in her tranquil face.
She took her tea and sat down in a chair rather in the shadows and aloof.
Miss La Sarthe monopolized the conversation.

She had no intention of relinquishing the pleasure of this rare guest, so while Miss Roberta got in a few sentences, Halcyone hardly spoke a word, and if she had really been a coquette, calculating her actions, she could not have piqued John Derringham more.
She looked so very sylph-like as she sat there, bending her graceful head.

Her eyes were all in shadow and seemed to gleam as things of mystery from under her dark brows, while the pure lines of her temples and the plaiting of her soft thick hair made him think of some virgin goddess.
But she never spoke.
At last John Derringham began to grow exasperated, and plunged into temptation, which he did not admit that he ought to have avoided.
"I am so very much interested in this wonderful old house," he said, addressing Miss La Sarthe.