She had guessed as much. Who else would speak with authority in that place? She dimly recalled a photograph, pale and faded, of a tall man in a yeomanry uniform, seen in somebody’s album; and the face of the photograph had been the same elongated oval face--with long thin nose, and dark eyes a shade too near together--which was looking down at her now. She felt it would be churlish to refuse shelter so earnestly offered. “You are very kind,” she faltered. “I am sorry to be so troublesome. I ought not to have come so far in such doubtful weather.” She went with him meekly, walking her fastest under the pelting rain, which was at her back now as they made for the house. “Have you really come far?” he asked. “From Trelasco. I live at the Angler’s Nest, a cottage by the river. You know it, perhaps?” “Yes. I know every house at Trelasco. Then you are staying with Mrs. Disney, I presume?” “I am Mrs. Disney.” “You?”--with intense surprise. “I beg your pardon. You are so young. I imagined Mrs. Disney an older person.” He glanced at the girlish figure, the pale delicate face, and told himself that his new acquaintance could scarcely be more than nineteen or twenty. He had met Major Disney, a man who looked about forty--a lucky fellow to have caught such a pretty bird as this. They had reached the shrubbery by this time, and were hurrying along a winding walk where the rain reached them with less violence. The narrow walk brought them on to a broad terrace in front of the house. Lostwithiel opened a half-glass door, and led Mrs. Disney into the library, a long, low room, full of curious nooks and corners, formed by two massive chimney-pieces, and by the projecting wings of the heavy oak bookcases. Isola had never seen any room so filled with books, nor had she ever seen a room with two such chimney-pieces, of statuary marble, yellowed with age, elaborately carved with cherubic heads, and Cupids, and torches and festal wreaths, bows and arrows, lyres and urns. A wood fire was burning upon one hearth, and it was hither Lostwithiel brought his guest, wheeling a large armchair in front of the blaze. “If you will take off your hat and jacket, and sit down there, I’ll get my housekeeper to attend to you,” he said, with his hand upon the bell. “You are more than kind. I must hurry home directly the rain abates a little. I have a careful old servant who is sure to be anxious about me,” said Isola, devouring the room with her eyes, wanting to take in every detail of this enchanted castle.