Miss Charteris glanced at the tall, well-built form of Stuart, who was still intent on the newspaper, and for the first time the thought of a warmer feeling dawned in her heart. She found this cousin a more agreeable companion than she had imagined; she was irresistibly attracted by his manliness and charm of manner. Might she not gratify her ambition, as well as her fancy, if she chose this young man for her husband? As mistress of Crosbie Castle she would once again reign in her world, but as mistress of Crosbie Castle and Beecham Park her sovereignty would be greater than she had even dreamed of. Vane felt her heart swell within her at the glorious prospect her imagination conjured up; and, standing in the soft morning sunlight, she vowed to link her lot with Stuart Crosbie and be his wife. She left the window and walked toward him. “You are most unkind, Mr. Crosbie,” she said, looking sweetly plaintive. “You are going to leave me all day, and you bury yourself now in those dry papers.” Stuart put down the newspaper quickly; he had been utterly unconscious of her presence. “I beg your pardon, Vane,” he said, smiling; “indeed it was very rude of me.” “I forgive you this time,” she returned, extending her white hand, “on condition that you promise to come home early from your meeting with this tiresome man.” Stuart colored faintly. It was true that he had received a letter from his friend, Captain Derwent; also true that that friend would pass through Chesterham at some time during the day; but Stuart’s appointment was not with Captain Derwent. In an hour’s time he was to meet Margery, and start for their picnic in the woods. “I shall get back as soon as I can,” he said, hurriedly. “In truth, Vane, I am afraid that you find Crosbie horribly dull; there is nothing or no one to amuse you. It will be better in a day or two, for I intend to invite one or two people for the twelfth.” “I don’t want them,” Miss Charteris observed, raising her large blue eyes to his; “and do you know, Cousin Stuart, strange though it may seem, I am not at all dull in your society.” Stuart bowed low at her words. “You are easily satisfied,” he replied; and at that moment his mother reappeared. “Now, Vane, I am at your service. By the by, Stuart, shall we not drive you to Chesterham? I can easily drive the barouche instead of the pony carriage.” “Oh, no, thanks!” he answered, hurriedly. “I prefer to walk.” Mrs. Crosbie elevated her eyebrows, but made no remark; and Vane followed her aunt from the room. On reaching the door, she looked back and kissed her hand. “_Au revoir_, Cousin Stuart!” she said, lightly. “Don’t stay away too long.” Stuart waited only till the ladies had well disappeared, then he walked across the hall, caught up his tennis hat, and made his way along the colonnade to the grounds. He stopped at the entrance to the courtyard and whistled for his dogs, then, without another look round, started across the paddock to the village.