“He might be polite as well as pleasant,” said Bartley Bradstone, looking at his watch. “It isn’t quite the thing for a newcomer to keep us all waiting.” Bertie cut in quickly. “It wants two minutes to six,” he said; “your watch is fast, Mr. Bradstone.” “It’s one of Dent & Frodsham’s chronometers,” he retorted. “It’s fast all the same,” said Bertie, firmly, but pleasantly. “I timed mine at the station an hour or two ago.” Before Bartley Bradstone could meet this argument, the door opened, and the footman announced Mr. Faradeane, and the great hall clock chimed the hour. Every eye was, not unnaturally, turned upon the latest guest, and Olivia thought that Annie was right as she glanced at the tall figure and handsome face. Unlike Mr. Bartley Bradstone, his dress-suit was not in the latest cut, and instead of a blazing diamond was a plain black pearl. An expression of approval shone in the squire’s eyes, for Faradeane’s appearance in evening dress confirmed the squire in his good opinion of him. “You have just come in time to prevent a duel of time-pieces,” he said. Aunt Amelia simpered. “I, at any rate, was sure Mr. Faradeane was not late,” said she, graciously. “Then, as a reward, you shall be taken in by him,” said the squire, offering his arm to Mary. Bertie, the highest in rank, escorted Annie; and, Faradeane having Aunt Amelia, Olivia was left to Bartley Bradstone. “This is a rough-and-scramble meal,” said the squire, as the butler lifted the cover from the fish, “but if you will perpetrate such follies as penny readings, you must pay the penalty.” “My brother ridicules our humble efforts to amuse and instruct our brethren, Mr. Faradeane; but he is always doing good himself, which he never mentions.” “Nor permits any one else to mention,” said the squire. “‘Do not let your right hand know what your left hand doeth,’ as the man said who put a bad shilling in the collecting-box,” said Faradeane. Annie and Mary almost started. Was this the mysterious stranger whose dark, contemptuous eyes had smitten them with awe? And could it be possible that his first words should be a frivolous jest? They began by being astonished, and continued so during the whole of the meal, for Mr. Faradeane, if he did not quite “set the table in a roar,” kept them all perpetually amused. If it had not been so perfectly natural and free from the appearance of effort, it would almost have seemed as if he were playing the part of the wit with a purpose; but the musical voice was quite easy and unstrained, and the dark eyes were cloudless and unreserved. The squire glowed with sympathetic delight as epigram after epigram fell quite naturally from his guest, and Bertie’s eyes sparkled with fun as he laughed at the dry humor and happy repartee.