"I don't smoke, Jamie," replied the Colonel. James lit up. The old man looked at him with a start, but said nothing; he withdrew his chair a little and tried to look unconcerned. When Mrs. Parsons returned, the room was full of smoke; she gave a cry of surprise. "James!" she said, in a tone of reproach. "Your father objects to smoking." "It doesn't matter just this once," said the Colonel, good-humouredly. But James threw his cigar into the fire, with a laugh. "I quite forgot; I'm so sorry." "You never told us you'd started smoking," observed Mrs. Parsons, almost with disapprobation, "Would you like the windows open to let the smell out, Richmond?" There was a ring at the door, and Mary's voice was heard. "Has Captain Parsons arrived?" "There she is, Jamie!" said the Colonel, "Rush out to her, my boy!" But James contented himself with rising to his feet; he turned quite pale, and a singular expression came over his grave face. Mary entered. "I ran round as soon as I got your note," she said. "Well, Jamie!" She stopped, smiling, and a blush brightened her healthy cheeks. Her eyes glistened with happiness, and for a moment, strong as she was, Mary thought she must burst into tears. "Aren't you going to kiss her, Jamie?" said the father. "You needn't be bashful before us." James went up to her, and taking her hands, kissed the cheek she offered. The impression that Mary Clibborn gave was of absolute healthiness, moral and physical. Her appearance was not distinguished, but she was well set up, with strong hands and solid feet; you knew at once that a ten-mile walk invigorated rather than tired her; her arms were muscular and energetic. She was in no way striking; a typical, country-bred girl, with a fine digestion and an excellent conscience; if not very pretty, obviously good. Her face showed a happy mingling of strength and cheerfulness; her blue eyes were guileless and frank; her hair even was rather pretty, arranged in the simplest manner; her skin was tanned by wind and weather. The elements were friendly, and she enjoyed a long walk in a gale, with the rain beating against her cheeks. She was dressed simply and without adornment, as befitted her character. "I am sorry I wasn't at home when you arrived, Jamie," she said; "but the Polsons asked me to go and play golf at Tunbridge Wells. I went round in bogy, Colonel Parsons." "Did you, my dear? That's very good." The Colonel and his wife looked at her with affectionate satisfaction. "I'm going to take off my hat." She gave James to put in the hall her sailor hat and her rough tweed cloak. She wore a bicycling skirt and heavy, square-toed boots. "Say you're glad to see us, Jamie!" she cried, laughing. Her voice was rather loud, clear and strong, perhaps wanting variety of inflection. She sat by Jamie's side, and broke into a cheerful, rather humorous, account of the day's excursion. "How silent you are, Jamie!" she cried at last.