Rendered desperate by the mention of my name, I had essayed a more determined cough. Now that it had been heard my best course was to reveal myself at once. So I walked to the window and drew up the blind. Two girls started to their feet at once, and stood looking at me in startled postures, one dark, of medium height, decidedly pretty, and with a gleam of mischief in her large eyes; the other tall and slim, fair, and stately as a young princess, with a cold, questioning look in her blue eyes, and a slight frown on her proud, delicate face. Something told me that this was Rupert Devereux's daughter. And the thought checked the smile which I had found some difficulty in repressing. "I am afraid I startled you?" I said. "I am waiting in here to see Colonel Devereux, and as I heard my name mentioned I thought it as well to let you know that I was here." For the life of me I could not meet the laughing gaze of those mischievous black eyes without a smile. They seemed to be looking me over from head to foot, with an air of decided interest, and finally they looked up into mine, as though satisfied with their inspection. "Did you hear what we were saying, Mr. Arbuthnot?" she asked eagerly, with a bewitching little smile. "How could I help it? I coughed once before, but you did not hear me." I glanced for the first time at Maud Devereux, and she inclined her head slightly, as though to intimate that she accepted my explanation. "It is of no consequence," she said, a little coldly; "we were to blame for talking nonsense. I'm ready for another set now, Olive." She turned and moved slowly away to the tennis-court without another look at me; but the other girl lingered for a moment. "I'm so sorry for what I said, Mr. Arbuthnot," she remarked. "Of course I didn't mean it, but it is so dull here that one is bound to talk nonsense sometimes." I bowed, and I am afraid that there was a decided twinkle in my eyes as I answered, "Pray, don't apologise. You can't imagine how grateful I am for the red hair and other etceteras which are to save me from a broken heart." She had the grace to blush a little at last, and it made her look uncommonly pretty. "You're too bad, Mr. Arbuthnot. Good-bye." And, with a parting glance and smile, she picked up her racket and moved away across the lawn towards Maud Devereux, who had never once looked round. I let the blind fall again, and turned back towards my chair. I had hardly reached it before the door opened, and I stood face to face with my grandfather, Colonel Sir Francis Devereux. CHAPTER XIII COLONEL SIR FRANCIS DEVEREUX, BART.