The woman who paused for a moment upon the threshold of the library, looking in upon the little company, was undeniably beautiful.

She had masses of red-gold hair, a little disordered by her long railway journey, deep-set hazel eyes, a delicate, almost porcelain-like complexion, and a sensitive, delightfully shaped mouth.

Her figure was small and dainty, and just at that moment she had an appearance of helplessness which was almost childlike.

Nora, after a vigorous embrace, led her stepmother towards a chair.
"Come and sit by the fire, Mummy," she begged.

"You look tired and cold." Philippa exchanged a general salutation with her guests.