Accordingly, she determined to consult a churchman without delay, and went out early in the afternoon.

Angela did not notice that she was dressed with more than usual care, as if for a visit of importance.
She had been gone about half-an-hour, and the young girl was sitting in her accustomed place, listless and apathetic as usual, when the door-bell rang, and a moment later the woman-servant came in, saying that a foreign gentleman was on the landing who insisted on seeing Angela, even though she was alone.

After giving a long and not flattering description of his appearance, the woman held out the card he had given her.

Angela glanced at it and read the name of Filmore Durand, and above, in pencil, half-a-dozen words: 'I have brought you a portrait.' Angela did not understand in the least, though she tried hard to concentrate her thoughts.
'Ask the gentleman to come in,' she answered at last, hardly knowing what she said.
She turned her face to the window again, and in the course of thirty seconds, when she was roused by Durand's voice in the room, she had almost forgotten that he was in the house.

She had not heard English spoken since she had left his studio on the morning when her father died, and she started at the sound.