"It is the most potent of all." Lady Agatha suddenly blushed.

It was the first time Mary had seen her blush.
"Charm--oh, come, Mary! Why not beauty if you are inclined to flatter ?" "Yes, indeed; why not beauty ?" Mary repeated, looking at her with loving eyes of admiration.
"A big, black, bounding beggar!" Lady Agatha quoted against herself merrily.
But Mary was not inclined to make any further excursions from home.

The soul in her was chilled by her recent experiences.

In her hurt and unhappy state the little house at Wistaria Terrace seemed most desirable.

It gave her satisfaction to note the discomforting things about her--the bare floor, the windows that shook and rattled, the ill-fitting doors, the ugliness of the painted dressing-table from which the paint had long departed, the chipped jug and basin that did not match each other.