"Did his lordship expect you, sir?" he asked with some emphasis; as though, had it been the case, he certainly should have been informed of it. The reply found him all civility. "I should have been here by the train arriving at half-past six," said Gavin Ord, the passenger in question--"it is my fault, certainly. No doubt, they sent to meet me----" "The brown shay and a pair of 'osses stood in the yard more'n an hour," exclaimed the porter with just reproach. "I'll tell Mr. Jacob. He knows his betters when he sees him, drunk or sober----" "Thank you," said Gavin quietly, "but I will not put his knowledge to the proof. After all, it's only five miles, you say----" "And a public-house at Moretown if the dust sticks in your throat. You'll do better walking than up alongside old Jacob at this time of night, sir----" "Had we known that his lordship expected a guest, we'd have answered for a carriage," added the station-master, still apologetically. The tall, fair-haired Englishman perplexed him. He hardly knew whether he addressed a Duke or a commoner. The voice and manner suggested the former; the intention to walk spoke of a vulgar habit rather befitting his lordship's curate than the honored guest of Melbourne Hall. Gavin Ord, upon his part, perhaps, delighted in perplexing people. He quite understood the kind of curiosity he had aroused; and, refusing to gratify it, he snatched up a light dressing bag; and leaving directions for his heavier luggage to be forwarded in the morning, he set off briskly upon the high road to Moretown, beyond which, as all the world knows, lies the Manor of Melbourne. "Going to make a long stay, sir?" had been the amiable station-master's last shot. "Oh, I may settle down there for a long time," said Ord in reply; and this news was all over the village in an hour. Strangers upon the road to Melbourne Hall were not so many that one should escape remark. "If he's for the Lady Evelyn," the blithe porter confessed over his cups at a later hour, "she might go farther and get a worse-looking man. Gave me a shillin', he did, and carried his bag hisself. That's what I call a gentleman, now."