All came to pass as we had hoped. Moore arrived, brimful of delight, and very much inclined to think the epidemic at school an unlimited subject of congratulation. He was looking very well, I was pleased to see--altogether in a mood for viewing everything with rose-coloured spectacles. "This _is_ a jolly place, Regina," he confided to me when we were strolling about the first morning after his arrival, I acting "cicerone," as Isabel was engaged in her housekeeping cares. "Now I hope you'll give me some credit for knowing what I'm about when I make friends with people! Do you remember how angry you were that day at Weissbad when I came in and told you I had been speaking to the Wynyards? Even mother looked rather funny about it." "What nonsense!" I exclaimed. "Angry! I wasn't the least angry! I was only rather shy at the idea of making new acquaintances." "And the Paynes," Moore resumed, "they were thoroughly nice people too. By-the-bye, Reggie, I forgot to tell you that Leo, the youngest, is almost sure to come to my `house' next term. I knew that he was down for Winchester, but I had no idea we'd be together. It isn't quite certain yet--it depends on a vacancy." "That will be nice for you," I replied, half absently. Not that I had not taken in what he said, but that his mention of the Payne family had recalled to me Rupert's talk of sensational stories, "facts stranger than fiction," which had come to his knowledge, and I began wishing that I could see him again to talk over the Millflowers mystery, now that I had seen for myself the Grim House and its inhabitants. But on that occasion I did not allude to it to Moore. For some days our pleasantest anticipations were realised. Moore proved a great acquisition in our drives and walks. Mr Wynyard encouraged to the full everything of the kind, and gratified me more than once by saying that active exercise in the open air, and all that sort of thing, was "so good for Isabel." "A little roughing it would really do her no harm," he said. "She is as unselfish and conscientious as she can be, but life has been in some ways perhaps too sheltered for her. I don't know how she could ever stand alone, as she may have to do any day," he added with a little sigh which touched me. "But you are not at all old, Mr Wynyard," I said, rather brusquely perhaps. "You can't be older than father, and we look upon him as--oh! quite a young man. Then, too, Margaret, Mrs Percy, and her husband are devoted to dear Zella!" "Yes," he agreed, "but still the best of brothers and sisters are not like a parent, and I suppose, to confess the truth, I have spoilt Zella a little. Circumstances seemed to make it inevitable."