‘Here is your sketch-book, dear,’ said Clarice as she came up. ‘This gentleman is Mr Etheridge, Sir William Ridsdale’s secretary,’ she added.—‘Mr Etheridge, my sister, Madame De Vigne.—Mr Etheridge has travelled all the way from Spa, bringing with him an important letter from Sir William addressed to his son. The hotel people sent him on here after us.’ ‘But’—— began Mora, half rising from her seat. ‘I have already explained to Mr Etheridge that Mr Archie was summoned by telegraph yesterday to meet his father in London this morning. It seems very strange.’ Mr Etheridge smiled a little deprecatingly, and resumed his hat, which he had doffed on being introduced to Madame De Vigne. ‘No doubt, ladies,’ he said, ‘it must appear strange to any one who is unacquainted with the peculiarities of Sir William. After writing the letter which I have in my pocket, and sending me off with it post-haste, he no doubt changed his mind (Sir William very often does change his mind), and set off for London with the intention of seeing Mr Archie in person, and never troubled himself more about me and the letter. Just like him—just like him.’ ‘And what do you propose to do now, sir?’ asked Madame De Vigne. ‘My plan is a very simple one, madam. I shall telegraph to London that I am here, and here I shall stop till I receive further instructions.’ ‘You must be somewhat tired after your long journey, Mr Etheridge,’ suggested Clarice. ‘Well—well. So—so. But I’m an old traveller, and it don’t matter.’ ‘Luncheon won’t be ready for some time; but if you would like some refreshment at once, I’—— ‘Not at present, thank you—not at present.’ Then he added: ‘This seems a very pretty spot; and with your leave, I’ll just ramble about and look round me a bit.’ ‘Do so by all means, Mr Etheridge,’ said Madame De Vigne kindly, ‘only don’t forget to be in time for luncheon.’ Clarice hesitated a moment, and then she said: ‘There’s a charming view of the lake a little farther on; if you would like to see it, I will show you the way.’ ‘Thank you. Nothing would please me better. Only, I don’t want to be a trouble.’ ‘O Mr Etheridge, it will be no trouble!’ That gentleman made Madame De Vigne an old-fashioned bow, and moved a few steps away. ‘You won’t mind my leaving you for a little while?’ said Clarice to her sister. ‘Not in the least. Besides, I’m not in a talking mood this morning.’ ‘It would be unkind to leave Mr Etheridge all alone.’ ‘Of course it would. So now run off, and do your best to entertain him.’ ‘This way, Mr Etheridge, please,’ said Clarice. And with that the two went off together, crossing the bridge and taking the same path that had been taken a little while previously by Lady Renshaw and her two cavaliers.