"Yes," said Stafford. "It is a kind of house-warming. My father intends

settling in England for some time, I think," he added. "And he has

built this place."

Mr. Falconer looked up from his plate in his alert, watchful way.

"Sir Stephen's plans rather uncertain?" he said. "I remember he always

used to be rather erratic. Well, if he means settling, he's made

himself a very cosy nest." He looked round the magnificent room with a

curious smile. "A wonderful man, your father, Mr. Orme!"

"Yes?" said Stafford, with a non-committal smile.

"Yes; of course, I've heard of his great doings--who hasn't! Did you

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ever hear him speak of me--we were great friends one time?"

"No, I don't think I have," replied Stafford. "But as I was telling

Miss Falconer, I have not seen very much of him." "Ah, yes, just so,"

assented Mr. Falconer, and he went on with his dinner.

Stafford had taken a seat at the table and poured out a glass of wine

so that they might not hurry; but he felt that he need not have been

anxious on that account, for the girl ate her dinner in a most

leisurely manner, talking to him in her soft, slow voice and looking at

him from under her half-closed lids. She talked of the scenery, of the

quaint inns and hotels they had put up at, of the various

inconveniences which she had suffered on the way; then suddenly she

raised her lids and looked at him fully and steadily.

"I suppose the young lady we saw with you this morning is your sister?"

With all his natural simplicity, Stafford was a man of the world, and

he did not redden or look embarrassed by the suddenness of the question

and the direct gaze of the luminous eyes.

"No," he said. "I have neither sister nor brother--only my father. She

was a friend."

"Oh," she said; then after a pause: "She was very pretty."

Stafford nodded. Like a flash floated before him the exquisite

loveliness of Ida Heron.

"Do you think so?" he said, with affected indifference.

"Why, yes; don't you?" she retorted.

"Oh, yes," he assented; "but I didn't know whether you would; men and

women so very seldom agree upon the question of looks. I find that most

of the women I think pretty are considered next door to plain by my

lady-friends."




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