Again Clodagh bent to pat the dogs. "How kind of Lady Diana!" she murmured. "I haven't seen my little sister for years and years, you know." "You'll find her changed, I'll guarantee. Children do spring up!" He gave a loud, contented sigh. "But shall I order the trap round? Or do you want to see Di first?" "I think I'll--I'll see Lady Diana later--if it will not seem ungracious." "Ungracious! Not a bit! I'll get the trap." He turned and swung across the sunny hall, whistling to his dogs. And Clodagh, still quiet and subdued, walked slowly after him to the door. No one was about when the small trap was brought round from the stables, followed by Tuffnell and the dogs. And as Clodagh came down the steps the two animals pressed forward with upturned, eager faces; and the friendly appeal in their faithful eyes touched her to remembrance of many grey and misty mornings, when Denis Asshlin's high, old-fashioned trap would sweep round from the Orristown stable-yard, and dogs such as these would plead passionately for a share in the impending journey. A dry, painful sensation seemed to catch her throat. "May they come with me?" she asked softly. "I love animals. I had to send my own Irish terrier home to Ireland when I gave up my house in Italy--and nothing has ever quite taken his place. Do let them come! They would be so good." The two dogs looked swiftly from her face to their master's. But George Tuffnell pretended to be stern. "No!" he said loudly--"no! Dick and Tom can't go to the station to-day!" Instantly the two tails dropped. "Come, Myers!" he called to the groom. "Mrs. Milbanke has no time to spare. Dick! Tom! To heel!" He winked humorously at Clodagh, as she stepped into the trap; and a moment later the groom took his seat and picked up the reins. Then suddenly he broke into a shout of genial laughter. "You villains!" he cried. "Off with you! Away with you!" And with a yelp of wild delight, the dogs sped down the avenue. Clodagh scarcely noticed the details of that swift drive, for a nervous sense of excitement and trepidation banished her powers of observation. And as she stepped from the little trap and entered the small country station, she could scarcely command a steady voice in which to ask whether the train was yet due. The train proved to be over-due by three minutes, and the knowledge brought an added qualm of apprehension. "What if little Nance were utterly changed? What if America had spoiled her?" But her thoughts and fears were alike broken in upon by a long, shrill whistle; the expected train loomed round a curve in the line, and a moment later roared its way into the station. There was a second of uncertainty; then somewhere in the front of the train a door was flung open, a small slight figure in a muslin dress sped down the platform, and two warm arms were thrown about Clodagh's neck, bridging in one moment the gulf of years.