"Is he, indeed?" said Dan, greatly amused at having himself discussed so openly. "Very wealthy; but he wastes all his money in London." "You do not care for him, I see." "I think he ought to be more alive to the responsibilities of his position," said Meg, primly. "What are you laughing at now?" "Is that sentiment your own?" said Dan, ignoring the question. "No. It is Mr. Jarner's. But we can talk of this later on. Here is the picture-gallery." It was a dreary-looking place; and Dan shuddered as he walked under the rows of frowning portraits. These were his ancestors--these men in armour, these stern-faced Puritans, these sad-looking ladies. Farbis Court and its desolation seemed to cast a shadow over all. He felt like a culprit under the menacing gaze of knight and dame. "Upon my word, they are a melancholy lot!" said their graceless descendant. "I don't think they approve of my intrusion. I don't see a merry face among them." "Sir Alurde is merry-faced." "As I am his double, I am glad that he is. I should not care to wear such sour looks. Where is the gentleman?" "You are standing close to him." Dan turned with a start, as though he expected to find a ghost at his elbow, and beheld a picture of himself on the wall. The resemblance was very striking, and he wondered that Meg did not guess he was Lord Ardleigh, with such a proof before her. "You might have sat for it," said Meg, looking from Sir Alurde to Dan. "I am glad to hear you say so. I assure you I had no idea I was so good-looking." "Oh, indeed, you are very good-looking, Dan." The man of the world blushed at the praise of this rustic maiden, and held up a protesting hand. He was standing by a window, and the light striking on his face emphasised his resemblance to Sir Alurde in a startling manner. "You will make me vain if you talk so," he said, smiling. "I see you admire Sir Alurde." "I do; I am quite in love with him." Before Dan could make capital out of this remark by introducing himself, he was startled by a long-drawn sigh which sounded close at hand. "Is that you, Meg?" "No; what do you mean?" "Did you sigh?" "Of course not. Why should I sigh?" "Then it must have been one of those ghosts we were talking about. I certainly heard some one sighing." Meg knew well enough that Miss Linisfarne was close at hand, and, fearful lest her companion should make some allusion to her, hastily beckoned him away. "Come up here, Dan. I wish to show you a very pretty lady." "Yourself?" said he, laughing; whereat she frowned and stamped her foot. "Why will you talk so! It is a Lady Ardleigh of the Restoration. She is----" "A doll," said Dan, contemptuously, looking at the simpering beauty,--"a china doll. Surely you don't think her beautiful! She has no soul." "What do you mean?" "Mean? Why, that she has never loved. You can see it in her face." "I have never loved, Dan, and I don't think myself a china doll, I assure you." "Oh, but you are a----"