“Softly, softly, my young lady!” said the man, putting his hand on her arm. “You are much too hasty, and, like all intemperate spirits, judge by appearances only. How do you know whether I have business here or not--whether my visit may not be that of a friend?” “Friend?” echoed Miss Charteris, sarcastically, at the same time hurriedly drawing her arm from his touch. “I see,” continued the stranger, half closing his eyes, and fixing her with a look which annoyed and fidgeted her. “I see you count Squire Crosbie’s friends by the cut of their coats. Stay; let me convince you that people are not always what they seem.” At that moment a footman was passing along the colonnade; and, calling in a loud voice, the stranger attracted his attention. “Is your master in?” was the question, put easily and naturally. The footman hesitated for an instant; but the presence of Miss Charteris reassured him. “Yes, sir.” “Kindly inform him that I am here.” “What name, sir?” the man asked. “Sir Douglas Gerant.” The footman bowed and turned away, while Vane felt that she wished the ground would open and swallow up this queer, dried, cynical cousin or herself--it mattered not which. Never had she been in so disagreeable a position. Sir Douglas came to her rescue. “Will you forgive me?” he said, quietly extending his hand, a long, thin white hand, which seemed strangely at variance with his rough, ill-cut clothes. “It is I who must ask that,” she replied. “Of course, had I known----” “Naturally, naturally,” interrupted Sir Douglas. “Let us say no more about it. So my cousin Constance is out? Well, I hope she will forgive me for taking her by storm in this way. And where is her boy?” “Stuart has gone to Chesterham.” “Hum! And is he a nice fellow? Do you like him?” Miss Charteris hesitated. “Yes,” she replied, slowly, “I like Stuart very much. You will see him this evening.” “Hum!” observed Sir Douglas again; and at that instant the squire’s tall, thin figure appeared, a look of undisguised pleasure on his face. “My dear Douglas!” “Sholto, old fellow!” The two men clasped hands; no words of stronger welcome were spoken, but their eyes looked all they would say; the handgrip testified more plainly than words. What memories filled the mind of each as they stood thus face to face--the traces of the world’s buffets in their worn lineaments--memories of two young forms with hope and vigor shining in their glowing eyes, determination and ambition strong in their hearts. “Welcome--a thousand times welcome!” said the squire, after a moment’s silence. “I received your letter this morning. We expected you to-morrow.” Sir Douglas laughed. “Yes, I thought so; but I am not an orthodox person at all. I break through all rules and regulations. I look like a tramp. Ask this young lady if she does not think so,” he added, abruptly. Vane’s face flushed--she was inwardly much annoyed; but Sir Douglas continued, speaking easily, and her confusion was unnoticed.