Miss Deleah was not home from school yet, he was informed by Emily, answering the door. She would not most likelies be many minutes. Would he walk in, and wait? The gentleman, acquiescing, was shown up the steep staircase and across the dark landing. Emily had no need to ask his name--there was not a soul in Brockenham probably who did not know by sight the rich brewer. With a feeling of proud satisfaction the old servant threw open the sitting-room door and announced on a sounding note of triumph, "Sir Francis Forcus." Emerging from the gloom of hall, staircase and landing his eyes were almost dazzled by the unexpected brightness and pleasantness of the long room, lit at the street end by the three deep-seated windows. Everywhere were evidences of occupation by refined women. The street below was hot and squalid and dusty, but the room with its shaded wide-open windows was cool. In one of them Deleah's bird was singing, and the plants in bloom on the wide seats beneath had been pushed on one side to make room for Deleah's little pile of books. Bessie's workbox was open on the table. A picture or two of no commercial value, but saved with the solid, handsome furniture from the prosperous days of the family, hung on the panelled and painted walls. By the side of the rosewood workbox with its over-flowing contents of muslin and ribbon to be used in the concoction of an afternoon apron which she was engaged on, Miss Day was sitting. Near by, his hands on the raised sash of Deleah's special window, leaning forward to look into the street, her companion stood. It was not until Bessie had come forward to greet the unexpected, astounding visitor, that Sir Francis, turning to look at the other occupant of the room, recognised his brother. Whatever surprise he may have felt he did not show. "Hullo!" Reggie said, turning round, and looking a little foolish. He raised a finger to his fair, smooth hair, in mock-respectful salutation. "Oh, it's you!" Sir Francis said, and paid the young brother no further attention. The very opposite in manner to the ever-popular Reggie, with his easy manners and his never-failing good temper, Sir Francis, cool, reserved, spare of speech, and in uncongenial society, truth to tell, unconquerably shy, was a difficult person with whom to make talk. He said a few constrained words to Bessie, with whose presence on the scene he had not reckoned any more than with that of his brother; and Bessie, struggling valiantly to appear at ease with him, and failing utterly, answered them according to her kind. "Very warm, to-day." Bessie was afraid he felt it so in this stuffy, airless street. "But you are delightfully in the shade here." Bessie, straightening her back and pouting her vivid lips, told how the weather made her long for a garden, a river, and waving trees, or the sea-shore.