Like most young Englishmen, he hated ostentation, which he designated

as "fuss."

"Rub 'em down well, Pottinger," he said, and he leisurely patted the

horses while the gorgeous footmen watched with solemn impressiveness.

"We've brought 'em along pretty well," he said, turning to Howard, who

stood beside him with a fine and cynical smile; then he went up the

white marble steps slowly, carefully ignoring the footmen who had drawn

themselves into a line as if they were a guard of honour, specially

drilled to receive him.

Followed by Howard, his cynical smile still lingering about his thin

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lips, Stafford entered the hall.

It was Oriental in shape and design, with a marble fountain in the

centre, and carved arches before the various passages. The principal

staircase was also of white marble with an Indian carpet of vivid

crimson. Palms reared their tall and graceful heads at intervals,

shading statuary in the prevailing white marble. Hangings of rose

colour broke the sameness and accentuated the purity of the predominate

whiteness.

Howard looked round with an admiration which obliterated his usual

cynicism.

"Beautiful!" he murmured.

But Stafford frowned. The luxury, the richness of the place, though

chaste, jarred on him; why, he could not have told.

Suddenly, as they were making their way through the lines of richly

liveried servants, a curtain at one of the openings was thrown aside,

and a gentleman came out to meet them.

He was rather a tall man, with white hair, but with eyebrows and

moustache of jet-black. His eyes were brilliant but sharp, and he moved

with the ease and alertness of youth.

There was something in his face, in its expression, which indicated

strength and power; something in his manner, in his smile, peculiarly

electric and sympathetic.

Howard stopped and drew back, but Stafford advanced, and Sir Stephen

caught him by the hand and held it.

"My dear Stafford, my dear boy!" he said, in a deep but musical voice.

"I expected you hours ago; I have been waiting! But better late than

never. Who is this? Your friend, Mr. Howard? Certainly! How do you do,

Mr. Howard! Welcome to our little villa on the lake!"




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