"You have not forgotten your old ways," she said. "Rustication has made you no whit the better." "Ah!" he said, "when beauty and grace shine on unaccustomed eyes, even the rustic tongue is loosed." I listened with amazement. I had thought that the Sir Rupert who was a man about town and a pretty fellow ages ago, was quite lost in Sir Rupert the ogre of Angry Castle, the false and vindictive friend, the patient waiter upon vengeance, the sinner stained with so many crimes that it was easy to credit him with all. Yet, grim as he looked, his air now was not saturnine. He seemed to have forgotten for a moment his later years, and turned back to a page of his youth. He had settled his huge shoulders comfortably in the low chair, and was swallowing glass after glass of the brandy, which apparently did not affect him in the least. "You will be wondering," said my lady, "why I should have asked for this interview." She had settled down for serious conversation, having replaced her cup in the tray. I could see the pretty fan with which she had provided herself waving to and fro against the firelight. "No reason was needed, my lady, except that you had not forgotten me like the rest of the world." "Was that enough to bring you half-a-dozen miles in drenching rain?" "Since when have I been afraid of a shower?" "Oh, Sir Rupert! you know you are a recluse by your own choice. The world would not have forgotten you if you had not willed to be forgotten. This being so, I did not lightly invade your solitude." "The wish to meet again and recall old memories had been quite enough." "Ah!" said her ladyship, "old memories are bitter-sweet; let them rest. But I thank you for coming all this way. I would have found my way to your solitude, but I was assured you barred your gates against all the world." "Country folks' tales," he said. "But it would be to reverse the natural order of things if you had come. Besides, my house is hardly fit to receive a lady." "That is why I longed to come." "Because you had heard strange stories about me and it, eh?" he said shrewdly. "Perhaps. You are somewhat of an ogre, De Lacy." "Yes, I let the gobemouches say their say." "Do you mean that really Castle Angry is like any other old house?" "You do me too much honour to be interested in it. Castle Angry is perhaps as like any other old house as I am like any other old man." "Well, you are not at all like any God-fearing kindly old man, carrying peace and honour upon his gray hairs." Sir Rupert laughed grimly. "You are right. I'm not the grandfatherly sort. If you've heard half the gossip of the country you're a brave woman to have me in your drawing-room. There are a good many milestones between this and our last merry meeting."