Miss Douglas greeted him with quiet politeness, and passed on; but not before she had caught his stare of surprise and look of admiration as his eyes for a moment rested on her face, then swept her dainty form from head to foot. “And who is Miss Douglas?” he asked, after they had passed beyond her hearing. “Oh, she is a young person whom grandpa came across in one of the public libraries, and persuaded papa to secure as governess to the girls,” Miss Isabel answered, with a yawn. “Governess! Young person, indeed! Why, if I ever saw the mark of the true and cultured lady in any one, I do in her,” he replied, with enthusiasm. “Nonsense, Wilbur! I hope you do not allow your head to be turned by every pretty face you chance to meet.” “Not I,” and the young man tossed his head, with a gay laugh. “But this Miss Douglas is something more than pretty. Hers is a face which, if a man learned to love, he would gladly serve twice seven years for the sake of making its owner his wife.” This was said partly to tease his sister, for he well knew her weak points; yet, it must be confessed, he had been startled by Brownie’s wondrous beauty. “Pshaw! Wilbur, I shall get entirely out of patience with you if you run on like that; and let me warn you beforehand, if mamma discovers you are ‘sweet’ on the governess, it will prove most disastrous to the poor girl’s prospects, for she will post her off without any ceremony.” “Don’t be disturbed, sister mine. We men, I admit, have an eye for the beautiful, be it in princess or maid. I suppose I may admire Miss Douglas from a distance, as one would admire a picture, with no thought of possessing it. By the way, to change the subject, what is father going to do with the horses while we are away?” “Send them up to the farm, I think.” “When do they go?” “Monday morning, I think.” “Let us go out to the stable, then, and take a farewell look at them,” proposed Wilbur, cunningly. “Not I, thank you! I’ve no notion of being perfumed with the scent of the stable if any one should call. You can go if you choose, and I will wait for you in the drawing-room.” The young man gladly availed himself of the permission, laughing meanwhile in his sleeve that his artifice had succeeded so well. He did not particularly enjoy a _tête-à-tête_ with the frivolous girl. He knew well enough that his fastidious sister would not accompany him to the stable, and he longed to be by himself, that he might feast upon the remembrance of that lovely face, which had flashed like a gleam from Paradise upon him. “She is the loveliest girl I have ever met, and I will see more of her, Isabel and the maternal to the contrary notwithstanding,” was his mental resolve, as he paced absently back and forth in the stable, wholly unconscious of his stated object in visiting the place. CHAPTER XI ADRIAN DREDMOND The day of sailing came at last.