About four o’clock Reginald left his room and went down to the piazza, where he sat listening for the first sound that would herald the approach of the train at the station, and then watching for Nixon’s return. Sam Walker was with him when he came. He had found his father near the road and been sent on by him with a message for Mr. McPherson. As the carriage came up Reginald did not speak, but Tom, who was with him, asked: “Did the ladies come?” “Yes, sir!” Sam answered, “and you bet she’s a buster!” “Which she? There is more than one,” Tom said, and Sam replied: “The tall, fair one, who carries herself so grand.” “And what of the other?” Tom asked, and Sam rejoined: “The little one? Oh, she is some, too, and her eyes are like stars when she laughs and the holes show in her cheeks. I b’lieve I liked her best after all, she was so friendly, while the other held herself so stiff and proud like; but she’s a stunner, and no mistake.” This last he said because of something he saw in Reginald’s face which reminded him of the possible relation in which the stunner stood to him. When Sam was gone in quest of Mr. McPherson, Reginald complained again of a headache and went to his room until dinner was announced, when he appeared looking paler than before, and more unstrung. “Better take some brandy to brace you up,” Colin said, with a twinkle in his eyes as he guessed the cause of Reginald’s discomposure. Reginald declined the brandy; said he was hot enough without it and would be all right when it was cooler. Tom was in high spirits, and when dinner was over said cheerily, as they were going upstairs to make some little change in their toilets: “Now for the stunner and the girl with holes in her cheeks and eyes like stars.” Reginald did not answer, and Tom fancied that he shut the door with a jerk, as he disappeared in his dressing-room. Tom was one who scarcely needed any accessories of dress to add to his personal appearance, he was so tall and straight and square-shouldered, with a kind of military air about him, which made strangers think he belonged to the army. “If I am half-way in the fashion I am satisfied,” he was wont to say in college, where he was always singled out as the best-looking man in a crowd, while Reginald was the most aristocratic-looking, and best dressed. On this occasion he was immaculate in his attire when he came down to the hall where Tom was waiting for him. He had taken a bath—in fact he had taken two that day, hoping to cool the fever in his veins, and was literally clean without and within, as Tom had written of him to Rena. He had also taken a good deal of pains with his toilet and looked as if fresh from the hands of his laundress and tailor as he stood trying to pull on a new glove which stuck at the thumb. “Going to wear gloves?” Tom said, in some surprise, “I am not. It is too hot, and my hands are too sweaty to get them on if I tried.”