Ronald was a very handsome man, as Joe knew. He was tall and straight and deep-chested. His complexion was like a child's, and his fine moustache like silk. His thick fair hair was parted accurately in the middle, and his smooth, white forehead betrayed no sign of care or thought. His eyes were blue and very bright, and looked fearlessly at every one and everything, and his hands were broad and clean-looking. He was perfectly well dressed, but in a fashion far less extreme than that affected by Mr. Topeka and young John C. Hannibal. There was less collar and more shoulder to him, and his legs were longer and straighter than theirs. Nevertheless, had he stood beside John Harrington, no one would have hesitated an instant in deciding which was the stronger man. With all his beauty and grace, Ronald Surbiton was but one of a class of handsome and graceful men. John Harrington bore on his square brow and in the singular compactness of his active frame the peculiar sign-manual of an especial purpose. He would have been an exception in any class and in any age. It was no wonder Joe had wished to compare the two. In a few moments the door opened, and Joe entered the drawing-room. She was pale, and her great brown eyes had a serious expression in them that was unusual. There was something prim in the close dark dress she wore, and the military collar of most modern cut met severely about her throat. If Ronald had expected a very affectionate welcome he was destined to disappointment; Joe had determined not to be affectionate until all was over. To prepare him in some measure for what was in store, she had planned that he should be left alone for a time with Miss Schenectady, who, she thought, would chill any suitor to the bone. "My dear Ronald," said Joe, holding out her hand, "I am so glad to see you." Her voice was even and gentle, but there was no gladness in it. "Not half so glad as I am to see you," said Ronald, holding her hand in his, his face beaming with delight. "It seems such an age since you left!" "It is only two months, though," said Joe, with a faint smile. "I ought to apologize, but I suppose you have introduced yourself to Aunt Zoë." She could not call her Aunt Zoruiah, even for the sake of frightening Ronald. "What did you think when you got my telegram?" asked the latter. "I thought it was very foolish of you to run away just when the hunting was so good," answered Joe with decision. "But you are glad, are you not?" he asked, lowering his voice, and looking affectionately at her. Miss Schenectady was again absorbed in the life of Mr. Ticknor. "Yes," said Joe, gravely. "It is as well that you have come, because I have something to say to you, and I should have had to write it. Let us go out. Would you like to go for a walk?" Ronald was delighted to do anything that would give him a chance of escaping from Aunt Zoruiah and being alone with Joe.