And then something rather untoward happened. There came a violent ringing at the front door--a loud, imperious pulling at the big, old-fashioned iron bell-pull. To the surprise of his mother, Oliver flushed--a deep, unbecoming brick red. Starting up from table, he pushed his chair aside, and walked quickly to the door. It was almost as if he expected some one. "I'll see who it is!" he called out. They heard him striding across the hall, and flinging open the front door.... Then he came back slowly, and Mrs. Tropenell saw that there was a look of immeasurable relief on his face. "It's a man who's brought a parcel from Pewsbury for one of the servants. He declared he couldn't make any one hear at the back, and so he came round to the front door--rather impudent of him, eh?" and he sat down again. Coffee was served in the pleasant, low-ceilinged drawing-room, and then Oliver and Laura went out of doors, with Alice trotting by their side. It was quite like old times. And the child voiced their unspoken feeling, when, slipping her hand into Oliver's, she exclaimed, "This is jolly! Just like what it used to be when you were here before!" And he pressed the little hand which lay so confidingly in his. "Yes," he said, in a low voice, "the same--but nicer, don't you think so, Alice?" And Alice answered with the downrightness of childhood, "I can't tell yet! I shall know that after you've been here a little while. We can't garden as much as we did then, for now the ground is too hard." "But we can do other things," said Oliver, smiling down at her. And Alice answered doubtfully, "Yes, I suppose we can." They did not say very much. Oliver did not talk, as perhaps another man would have done, of his and Gillie's adventures in France and Italy. And after a comparatively short time Laura suggested that she and Alice had better now ride home. "Will you come over to tea?" she asked. And Oliver said yes, that he would. "I daresay Godfrey will be back by then. He often takes the early afternoon train down from London." But to that he made no answer, and Laura, with a rather painful sensation, saw the light suddenly die out of his face. He came round to the stable. "I'll walk a little way with you," he said. But she exclaimed rather hurriedly, "No, don't do that, Oliver! Stay with your mother and Lord St. Amant." And without any word of protest he obeyed her. * * * * * It is strange what a difference the return of a friend may make to life! Laura Pavely felt another woman as she busied herself that afternoon, happily waiting for Oliver Tropenell. Honestly she hoped that Godfrey would come back by the early afternoon train; he, too, would be glad to see Oliver. But the time went by, and there came no message through from London ordering the car to be sent to the station, and Laura told herself that perhaps Godfrey had gone straight to the Bank.