Mrs. McVeigh smiled at the query and shook her head. "Not the least little bit, and we are glad of it." She walked over to the window looking across the far fields where the road showed a glimpse of itself as it wound by the river. "I thought I saw some one on horseback over there, and every horseman coming our way is of special interest just now. I look for word from Kenneth daily--if not from the boy himself; he has had time to be home now. His stay has already been longer than he expected." Gertrude joined her and gave her attention to the head of the road. "It may be your visitor from France, Evilena said she had gone riding. Of course you know we are all eager to meet her. Dr. Delaven sings her praises to us until it has become tantalizing." "We should have driven over to see you but for that accident to her maid--the poor thing, except a few words, could only speak her own language, and we could not leave her entirely to the servants. Madame Caron seemed quite impressed with the brief glance she got of Loringwood, and when she heard it was likely to be sold she asked a great many interested questions concerning it. She is wealthy enough to humor her fancies, and her latest one is a Carolina plantation near enough to water for her yacht, which Mobile folks say is the most beautiful thing--and the Combahee would always be navigable for so small a craft, and the Salkahatchie for most of the year." "She certainly must be able to humor any sort of fancy if she keeps a yacht of her own; that will be a new departure for a woman in Carolina. It sounds very magnificent." "It is; and it suits her. That is one reason why I thought she might be the very best possible purchaser for Loringwood. She would resurrect all its former glories, and establish new ones." Matthew Loring entered the sitting room, moving somewhat haltingly with the help of a cane. Gertrude arranged a chair near the window, in which he seated himself slowly. "Do you feel tired after the ride, Uncle?" "No," he said, fidgetting with the cushion back of his head, and failing to adjust it to suit him, either let it fall or threw it on the floor. Gertrude replaced it without a word, and Mrs. McVeigh smiled quietly, and pretended not to see. "I think I can promise you a pleasant visitor, Mr. Loring," she remarked, turning from the window. "A gentleman just turned in at our gate, and he does look like Judge Clarkson." Gertrude left the room to join the others who were talking and laughing in the arbor, a few steps across the lawn. Mrs. McVeigh busied herself cutting some yellowing leaves from the plants on the stand by the window. Loring watched her with a peculiar peering gaze. His failing sight caused him to pucker his brows in a frown when he desired to inspect anything intently, and it was that regard he was now directing toward Mrs. McVeigh, who certainly was worth looking at by any man.