He shook hands with the ladies, and there was rather a conscious look between Isabel and the visitor as their hands joined--one which did not escape the head of the family. "Sit down, Beck, sit down," he said, cordially enough, all the same. "Oh, I have breakfasted, sir." "Yes; we're late," said Mr Elthorne, with a look at Aunt Anne. "That means it is my fault, Mr Beck," said the lady; "but never mind, my dear, sit down and have some more. Sailors always have good appetites." "Oh, well, just a drop of coffee," said the young man, for Isabel had quickly filled a cup, and was holding it out to him. "Thanks, Miss Elthorne; but really I did not mean--" "You are on the vicar's cob?" said Mr Elthorne quickly, as he noted his daughter's heightened colour, and the young man's hesitation and evident pleasure. "Try some of this game pie, Beck," cried Alison, pushing over a plate. "Aunt Anne finished the kidneys." "Ally, my dear." "Oh, thanks," said the visitor, taking the plate as he settled himself at the table. "Cob, sir? Oh, no; a friend sent me over one of his horses. I have had it these three days." A curious look of trouble crossed Isabel's countenance, and she sat watching the speaker as he went on: "That's the worst of being ashore. Everyone is so kind. I am always spoiled, and it takes me a month to get over it when I get back to my ship." "And when do you go?" said Mr Elthorne. "This day fortnight, sir." "For six months, isn't it?" "There is no certainty, sir, I'm sorry to say. We may be ordered on to Japan afterward." "Isabel, my dear, I am sure Mr Beck will excuse you." "Eh? Oh, yes, certainly," said the visitor with his lips, but with a denial of the words in his eyes. "Go and put on your riding habit, my dear. Aunt Anne will pour out the coffee." "Yes, papa," said the girl; and she rose, and, after exchanging glances with their visitor, left the room. "Oh, yes, I'll pour out the coffee," said Aunt Anne, changing her seat. "You are very fond of riding, Mr Beck, are you not?" "Well, ye-es," said the young man, laughing, and with an apologetic look at his host and friend; "I like it very much, but I always seem such a poor horseman among all these hard riders, and feel as if I ought to congratulate myself when I get back safe." "Oh, well," said Mr Elthorne condescendingly, "you would have the laugh at us if you got us to sea. Did you see anything of Sir Cheltnam?" "No; I came by the lower road." "Here he is--they are, I ought to say," cried Alison, jumping up and going to the window. "Eh?" ejaculated Mr Elthorne, rising too, and joining his son at the window to watch a party of three coming across the park at a hard gallop--the party consisting of two ladies and a gentleman, with one of the ladies leading, well back in her saddle, evidently quite at her ease.