He liked her direct and calmly searching gaze; he liked her voice which, while soft and pleasant, had a trace of gravity in it. He knew that her fine carriage was a sign of physical vigor and he recognized how it had been gained by the clear, warm tinting of her slightly sun-darkened skin. But, apart from this and her comeliness, which was marked, there was that in her personality which spoke of evenness and depth of character. She was steadfast, not lightly to be swayed from a resolve, he thought. "Nasmyth has often spoken about you," she told him. "I understand it was chiefly by your help that he succeeded in reaching the scene of my brother's death. I want to thank you for that." Her voice was quiet, but it did not betoken indifference; he knew that she was not one to forget. He could not think of any apposite answer, but she saw the sympathy in his eyes and it pleased her more than words would have done. "It was a relief to me that Nasmyth made that journey," she went on. "I wanted to learn everything that could be known--instead of shrinking from it. You see, I had a great faith in my brother." "He deserved it," Lisle declared warmly. "I have gathered enough to convince me of that!" "Thank you! Clarence was not in a condition to notice anything very clearly during his journey, and I think what he suffered blunted his recollection. Besides, the subject is a distressing one to him, and it is seldom he can be induced to speak about it. Perhaps that is a pity; I find it does not always save one trouble in the end to avoid a little immediate pain." Lisle was gratified. She had spoken so unrestrainedly, though he imagined that it was a somewhat unusual thing for her to take a stranger into her confidence. "Yes," he replied; "I think that's very true. It's better to face it and get it over. The wound sooner heals." She smiled rather wistfully and changed the subject. "I told Nasmyth that you taught him to see." "I suppose I did," acknowledged Lisle. "Still, it was only as far as it concerned the things that I'm acquainted with. I'm not sure that my meaning's very clear?" "I understand. You knew what to expect; that carries one a long way. Were you disappointed in finding it?" He was a little surprised at her keenness, and rather confused. This was a question that could not be directly answered. "What I was more particularly referring to was the meaning of such things as a broken branch, a gap in a thicket, or a few displaced stones," he explained. "I taught him what to infer from those." "Yes," she said; "I understand that you discovered nothing new--I mean nothing that could throw any further light upon what befell my brother after the others left him." He was glad that he could answer her candidly.