"I too had no idea of visiting you, until the day before yesterday," he said. "I've been abroad for nearly a year, and only arrived back in town three days ago, when I found Sir Henry's, invitation, a month old, lying at my club. I wired to ask if I might still accept it, and here I am." He stood with his legs apart, his hat set rather jauntily upon his head, looking an entirely different person to that crabbed, strange old fellow who sat behind the bar of sunlight, with the bank-notes in his claw-like fingers, every detail of that scene was as vivid in my memory as though it had occurred but yesterday. Again, I looked into his face. Yes, I had no doubt whatever that it was he. "I--I am the first to bid you welcome to Atworth," Beryl said. "Nora has gone over with some of the people to visit the Haywards, at Dodington. There's a flower-show there." "I quite remember," he exclaimed, "I went over there last year. Lady Dyrham drove us. Do you recollect?" "Of course," she laughed. "And how it rained too. My new frock was quite spoilt, and I had a bad cold for a fortnight afterwards. I'm not likely to easily forget that drive home." "Because of the spoilt frock?" he laughed, raising his small eyes to me. "Yes, I suppose that's what has impressed itself upon my memory. We women are never forgetful where clothes are concerned." "And who's here? Anybody I know?" he inquired. "Oh, there are the Pirries and the Tiremans, as usual, and, of course, Lady Dyrham," she answered. Then, a moment later she added, "This is Doctor Colkirk--Mr Ashwicke. Let me introduce you, if you have not already met before." "We have not had that pleasure," said the Tempter, turning to me and raising his hat. He remained perfectly calm, betraying no sign whatever of recognition. In this I saw an intention on his part to deny all knowledge of our previous acquaintance. His keen eyes glanced at me quickly, and, as though in that moment he gauged exactly my strength of character, he expressed his pleasure at our meeting, and hoped that we should all spend as pleasant a time as he had done last year. "Here one has not an hour for leisure," he laughed. "Sir Henry and his wife are really a wonderful pair as host and hostess. You've already found them so, I've no doubt." "Yes," I responded mechanically, his marvellous self-control staggering me. "The house-party is a very jolly one." "I've been abroad," he went on. "But I'm pleased to be at home again. There's nothing like an English country house in summer. It is an ideal existence." "How long have you been away?" I inquired, anxious to ascertain his tactics. "Nearly a year. After leaving here last summer, I spent a week in London and then left for Vienna. Afterwards I went south, spending greater part of the winter in Cairo, thence to Bombay, and returned for the late spring in Florence, and afterwards wandered about France, until three days ago I found myself again back in England."