Mrs.Fyne saw the brusque half turn of the fellow's body as one avoids an importunate contact, defeating her attempt rudely.

She did not try again but kept pace with his stride, and Mrs.Fyne watched them, walking independently, turn the corner of the street side by side, disappear for ever.
The Fynes looked at each other eloquently, doubtfully: What do you think of this?
Then with common accord turned their eyes back to the street door, closed, massive, dark; the great, clear-brass knocker shining in a quiet slant of sunshine cut by a diagonal line of heavy shade filling the further end of the street.

Could the girl be already gone?
Sent away to her father?
Had she any relations?
Nobody but de Barral himself ever came to see her, Mrs.Fyne remembered; and she had the instantaneous, profound, maternal perception of the child's loneliness--and a girl too! It was irresistible.

And, besides, the departure of the governess was not without its encouraging influence.

"I am going over at once to find out," she declared resolutely but still staring across the street.