The girl had been flattered, touched too, by the implied confidence. She had yet another vivid memory of Lord St. Amant. He had sent her, immediately on hearing of her engagement to Godfrey Pavely, a magnificent wedding present; also he had come, at some inconvenience, to her marriage. Godfrey had supposed the compliment due to regard for himself and for his father, but Laura, of course, had known better. Lord St. Amant had come to her marriage to please Mrs. Tropenell--because he regarded her, in a sense, as Mrs. Tropenell's adopted daughter. Something of all this moved in quick procession through Laura Pavely's mind, as she stood in the doorway, looking more beautiful, more animated, more feminine, in spite of--or was it because of?--her riding dress, than Oliver Tropenell had ever seen her. She moved forward into the room, and Lord St. Amant turned quickly round. If Laura looked at Lord St. Amant with a new interest, a new curiosity in her beautiful eyes, he, on his side, now looked at Laura more attentively than he had done for a long time. He had been abroad for two months, and this was the first time he and Mrs. Tropenell had met since his return. They had just had a long talk, and during that talk she had at last told him something which had amused, surprised, and yes, interested him very much; for Lord St. Amant, in the evening of his days, found himself more, not less, tolerant of, and interested in, human nature, and in human nature's curious kinks and byways, than at the time when he himself had provided his friends and contemporaries with food for gossip and scandal. But he had been very comforting in his comments on her story, and more than once he had made his old friend smile. Mrs. Tropenell had felt very, very glad to see Lord St. Amant. It was natural that she should be glad to have once more within easy reach of her the one human being in the world to whom she could talk freely, and who took an unaffectedly close, deep interest in all her concerns. * * * * * Not till they were all sitting at luncheon, was Laura able, in a low tone, to inquire after her brother. Little Alice knew nothing of her uncle's visit to England. Godfrey and Laura had tacitly agreed to keep the child in ignorance of it. But now Laura asked, with some eagerness, "And Gillie? What's happened to Gillie? Is he still abroad?" Olive answered at once, "No, he's gone back to Mexico." And then, as he saw a look of blank disappointment shadow her face, he added, hastily, "He gave me a lot of messages for you--I was coming over this afternoon to deliver them. You know what Gillie's like--he never writes if he can help it!" "Yes," she said, "I know that," and she sighed. "Did he go from a French port?" she asked. Oliver hesitated. It was almost as if he had forgotten. But at last he answered, "Yes, he went from Havre. I saw him off."