CHAPTER NINE. "THE MISSES GREY." It was certainly a curious position, and now that my anxiety about Moore had to some extent calmed down, I could scarcely help smiling to myself as we jogged along, at the adventure which my injudiciousness and Moore's self-will had landed us in. The road cleared a good deal as we approached our destination. I was able to get a better view of our companion than hitherto, while the shade of the trees had lessened the already waning light. He was young, under thirty, I thought to myself, decidedly pleasing in appearance, if not exactly handsome; but what struck me the most was a shadowy resemblance to some one I had seen, though, try as I might, I could not succeed in remembering to whom. Once or twice I fancied I descried the shadow of an amused smile crossing his own face, but before we stopped at the Manor-house door his expression grew more serious. "You quite understand," he began, "and excuse me if it is unnecessary to remind you of it, that your own wish to--to keep all this business to ourselves, is thoroughly agreed to, indeed desired by--Mr Grey and his family?" "Oh dear, yes," I replied eagerly, "and I am very thankful for it, but I don't feel as if we had been grateful enough to him. And--" with a little hesitation, "to yourself." He made a slight gesture of deprecation of the latter part of my speech, but I went on-- "If you should be writing to Mr Grey, would you be so kind as to thank him again?" "Certainly," he said cordially. "If I don't write it I will not forget to _say_ it, the next time I see him," and the rather unguarded inference of his words reminded me that letters were, so far as we knew, unknown at the Grim House. So I contented myself with another "thank you." I should have liked to ask our friend's own name, but my courage failed me, and afterwards I was glad I had not done so; it might have savoured a little of seeking for information which had not been volunteered to us. The hall-door stood open as we drove up to it, and one or two of the older servants, among them the housekeeper and butler, were looking out anxiously. Their faces cleared when they saw us, but clouded again when I jumped out and hurriedly volunteered some explanation of our late return, of which of course the word "accident" was the first to catch their ears. "Dear, dear!" said the housekeeper, "what will Master and Miss Isabel say, with all their charges to me and Sims to take good care of you, Miss Fitzmaurice?" "They will certainly not say it is your fault, or Sims', Mrs Bence," I replied; "and after all, I hope it is nothing very bad. We were very lucky to meet this gentleman, otherwise I could not have got my brother home nearly so quickly."