'I daresay not. He is charming--positively charming! So this is the pond Kester and Mollie rave about? What a sweet little place--so still and so retired! But of course you can see the house from it. Is not that your cousin, Captain Burnett?'--as they came in sight of the bench. 'It is very much like him.' 'Yes, of course it is Michael!' and Audrey quickened her steps in surprise. 'My dear Michael, when did you get back? No one knows of your arrival.' 'I daresay not,' he returned somewhat gravely, as he shook hands with her and bowed to Mrs. Blake. 'I only got in half an hour ago, and, having no mind to mingle with the crowd, I sat here to get cool.' 'Have you had some tea, Michael?' 'Oh yes; Parker brought me some. Never mind me. How have you been getting on?' looking at her attentively. 'Oh, very well.' But Audrey blushed a little uneasily under that kind look. 'Mrs. Blake, I believe you have not met my cousin before?' 'I think we have met, Audrey.' 'To be sure we have!' responded Mrs. Blake, with her brightest smile. 'I am so glad of this opportunity of speaking to you, Captain Burnett. I hope Miss Ross gave you my message?' 'I don't believe I have had any message--have I, Audrey?' And Audrey laughed a little guiltily; she did not always remember people's messages. Mrs. Blake shook her head at her. 'Oh, you traitress!' she exclaimed playfully. 'And I thought you, of all people, were to be trusted. Captain Burnett, I must give my own message. I want to thank you for your kindness to my poor boy.' 'He is not poor at all,' he replied lightly; but his keen blue eyes seemed to take the measure, mental and physical, of the graceful-looking woman before him. 'He is a very clever fellow, and will make his mark. I can assure you I quite envy him his brains.' 'It makes me so proud to hear you say that. I often wonder why my children are so clever; their father'--she checked herself, and then went on in a more subdued key--'my poor husband had only average talents, and as for me----' She left her sentence unfinished in a most expressive way. 'Mollie says you are clever too, Mrs. Blake.' 'My dear Miss Ross, then Mollie--bless her little heart!--is wrong. Is it my fault if those foolish children choose to swear by their mother? Cleverness does not consist in chattering a little French and Italian--does it, Captain Burnett? You and I know better than that, and it will always be a lasting wonder to me why I have a son like my Cyril.' 'You have two sons, Mrs. Blake.' Something indefinable in Michael's tone made Mrs. Blake redden for a moment; then she recovered herself. 'Yes, thank God! I have; but a widow's eldest son is always her prop. Kester is a mere boy; he cannot help his mother much yet.'