She turned from him and fled across the grass and along the garden paths with the swiftness of a girl of sixteen and with an energy of scorn which the most complacent of men could not have mistaken. Ralph Ravelstone stood looking after her with a face full of amazement. He did not understand it. A woman of Mary’s age is supposed by men of his class to be very open to any overture and not too fastidious as to the terms of it. Besides he had meant to be an amiable conqueror; not to be disrespectful at all. He turned slowly after her with his countenance a great deal longer than when he had first approached. The reality of this repulse struck him more than anything she could have said. He was in his way an _homme à bonnes fortunes_, not used to be repulsed by the kind of women he had known. Mary was something different, something finer, though she was only an old maid. His self-confidence was not very deep, and in the bottom of his heart perhaps he suspected that he was not the most creditable of suitors or of brothers. He stood pulling his big beard and looking after the hurrying figure which never slackened pace nor looked back till it had disappeared into the house. And then he walked slowly after, with certain words coming back to his ears. “Stay in a place where they hate you and scorn you!” He remembered how his sister had jumped out of his arms, how she had looked at him with staring eyes. “By Jove!” he said to himself, quickening his pace, and strode into the house and rang the bell in his room (he was not much accustomed to bells) till he pulled it down, filling the house with the furious tinkling, and bringing the footman and a stray housemaid from different corners of the house, stumbling up the unaccustomed stairs--for Mary’s room was in a remote corner of the house, and Miss Hill’s bell did not ring three times in a year. CHAPTER IX. “My mistress, sir, is too poorly to see anyone.” “Do you know who I am?” said Ralph. He stood swelling out his big chest in front of the polite imperturbable figure in black, which made the bushman’s large check still more emphatic. “Well, sir,” said Saunders, with a deprecating smile, “I am sorry to say as I did not catch the name.” “I am her brother, you fool,” said Ralph. “Go back and say that it’s her brother, and I must see her before I go. What do you stand there for, gaping? Go back and tell her I can’t go without seeing her. Don’t you hear?” “I hear very well, sir,” said Saunders, “but I make no doubt, sir, my mistress knew who you was, though I didn’t quite catch the name.” “Where’s Mr. Parke?” said Ralph. “He has gone out, sir, with the other gentlemen. I understand his lordship is expected this evening,” said Mr. Saunders, with the importance such an intimation deserved. “And who’s his lordship?” thundered Ralph. “His lordship, sir, is master’s brother, Viscount Frogmore. He is an old gentleman, and we’re the heir presumptive in this house.”