Katty's bright brown eyes were very good eyes, and long before the stranger could see her she had, as it were, taken stock of him. Somehow his clothes were not English-looking, and he wore a kind of grey Homburg hat. He was walking at a great pace, and as he came nearer, some vague feeling of curiosity made Katty step out of the gate, and look straight up the road towards him. All at once she made up her mind that he was American--a well-to-do and, according to his lights, a well-dressed American. Now Katty Winslow looked very charming, as she stood out there, in her heather-mixture tweed skirt, and pale blue flannel blouse--charming, and also young. And the stranger--to her he seemed entirely a stranger--when he was quite close up to her, suddenly took off his hat and exclaimed, "Why, Miss Fenton! It is Miss Fenton, isn't it?" He was now smiling broadly into her face, his bold, rather challenging eyes--the blue eyes which were the best feature of his face, and the only feature which recalled his beautiful sister--full of cordial admiration. "You don't remember me?" he went on. "Well, that's quite natural, for of course you made a much deeper impression on me than I did on you!" And then all at once it flashed across Katty who this pleasant, bright-eyed wayfarer must be. It must be, it could only be, Gilbert Baynton--the peccant Gillie! "Mr. Baynton?" she said questioningly, and she also threw a great note of welcome and cordiality into her voice. "Yes," he said. "Gilbert Baynton--very much at your service----?" "--Mrs. Winslow," she said hurriedly. "I'm Mrs. Winslow now." She saw that the name conveyed nothing to him. "Do come in," she went on pleasantly, "if only for a moment, Mr. Baynton. Though it's early for tea, perhaps you'll stay and have a cup with me? I had no idea you were in England! I suppose you're staying with Laura, at The Chase?" He shook his head, the smile faded from his face, and Katty, who was observant, saw that her question was ill-timed. "It's delightful--seeing an old friend again, and I was feeling so bored--all by myself!" As he followed her into the house, Gillie told himself that this was distinctly amusing--quite good fun! It would take the horrible taste of his interview with that--that _brute_--out of his mouth. He looked round the little hall with quick interest and curiosity. There was no sign of a man about, only a lady's slender walking-stick and a bright red parasol, in the umbrella-stand. Was pretty little Katty a widow? Somehow she did not look like a widow! She opened a door which gave out of the hall on the left, and called out, "Harber? I should like tea in about five minutes." Then she shut the door, and led the way down the little hall, and through into her sitting-room. Gillie again glanced about him with eager appreciation. This was the sort of room he liked--cosy, comfortable, bright and smiling like its attractive mistress.