“That can scarcely be wondered at, since he treats you so coldly--almost rudely. What a strange old man this Vere Gardiner must have been! Why should he take such a singular whim into his head?” “I do not know. You now know as much--or as little--as I do myself.” “It is a riddle,” said Blanche. “What does Lady Quaintree say?” “She is very much pleased about the money and landed property--as pleased and interested as if I were her own child; but she has not said much about the proposition of marriage.” “I suppose she wishes to see more of this gentleman. This afternoon, when I first saw Captain Desfrayne, I liked him: he seemed nice, and had such a gentle way with him, and his voice was pleasant. But now I have taken a prejudice against him.” At this moment, Blanche caught sight of her father, Squire Dormer, who had just entered the drawing-room, where the elder ladies sat. “Wait for me one moment here, dear Miss Turquand,” she said. “I will run and ask papa if I must return to-night. Oh! I do hope he will let me stay till to-morrow with you. Do you leave in the morning?” “Lady Quaintree arranges everything,” answered Lois. “It will be just as she orders.” Blanche went back to the drawing-room. Lois remained on the terrace, idly watching the weird shadows and sharp, silvery lights. A step on the lower terrace for a moment alarmed her. But a glance assured her that Captain Desfrayne was the intruder on the quiet of that place. He was near enough to be able to address her without raising his voice. Not one word of the dialogue just interrupted had reached his ears. “Are you not afraid of taking cold, Miss Turquand?” he asked, really for want of something better to say. “Thanks, no. It is such a lovely summer’s night. I am going back to the drawing-room in one moment,” replied Lois. With a quick movement, Paul Desfrayne ascended the steps leading from the lower to the upper terrace, and in an instant was by her side. “Miss Turquand----” he began, then his courage and the power of expressing his scarcely formed ideas utterly failed him. Lois’ heart throbbed painfully for a moment or two. She looked at Captain Desfrayne, then averted her eyes without saying a word. “I wished--I may not see you again for a long time, and I thought it would be better to explain myself certain circumstances which it is of paramount importance you should know than to trust others to do so, or to endeavor to commit them to writing.” “Circumstances?” repeated Lois. “Of what kind?” “Circumstances connected entirely with my own history; but as--must I say unhappily?--one who might be deemed the benefactor of us both--that one has chosen to link our fate--your destiny and mine--together, to a certain extent, it is your right to learn what otherwise----”