"Excuse me one moment: I have been ill, and am still subject to fits of giddiness. A mere vertigo; nothing more." But he said the words gasping for breath, and looked so deadly pale that Phillis felt quite frightened as she stood beside him. They had been walking a few steps down the Braidwood Road, and Phillis had looked out anxiously for Nan, who had not yet appeared in sight. But now Mr. Dancy had come to an abrupt pause, and was leaning for support against the low wall that shut in the grounds of the White House. Phillis looked at him a little curiously, in spite of her sympathy. He still wore his loose cloak, though the evening was warm; but he had loosened it, and taken off his felt hat for air. In figure he was a tall, powerful-looking man, only thin and almost emaciated, as though from recent illness. His features were handsome, but singularly bronzed and weather-beaten, as though from constant exposure to sun and wind; and even the blue spectacles could not hide a pair of keen blue eyes. By daylight Phillis could see that his brown beard and moustache were tinged with gray, and the hair on the temples was almost white; and yet he seemed still in the prime of life. It was a far handsomer face than Archie Drummond's; but the deep lines and gray hair spoke of trouble more than age, and one thing especially impressed Phillis,--the face was as refined as the voice. If Mr. Dancy were aware of her close scrutiny, he took no notice of it. He leaned his arm against the wall and rested his head against it; and the thin brown hand was plainly visible, with a deep-red scar just above the wrist. As Phillis had regarded it with sudden horror, wondering what had inflicted it, he suddenly aroused himself with an apology: "There! it has passed: it never lasts long. Shall we walk on? I am so ashamed of detaining you in this way; but when a man has had a sunstroke----" "Oh, that is sad!" returned Phillis, in a sympathizing voice. "Is that why you keep in-doors so much in the daylight? at least"--correcting herself in haste, for she had spoken without thought--"one never sees you about," which was a foolish speech, and showed she took notice of his movements; but she could not betray Mr. Drummond. "Some one else only comes out in the evening," he rejoined, rather pointedly. "Who told you I kept in-doors in the daylight? Oh, I know!" the frown passing from his face, for he had spoken quickly and in annoyed fashion. "This sounds like a parson's prating: I know the language of old. By the bye, did you set the clergy on my track?" turning the blue spectacles full on the embarrassed Phillis. "I?--no indeed!" and then she went on frankly: "Mr. Drummond was at our house, and he told us that he always called on Mrs. Williams's lodgers." "True, Miss Challoner; but how did his reverence know Mrs. Williams had a lodger?" This was awkward, but Phillis steered her way through the difficulty with her usual dexterity.