I nodded my head towards Edgecumbe, who all the time had been sitting in silent protest. But my story had done its work. The squire's apparent dislike was over, and, acting upon the generous impulse of the moment, he started to his feet and rushed to Edgecumbe's side. 'Give me your hand, sir,' he cried; 'I am proud to know you, proud to have you sitting at my table!' What Edgecumbe would have said, I do not know. He had been protesting all the time as much as a man could protest with his eyes, and I knew that like all men of his class he hated to have such deeds dragged into the light of day, although I had done it with a set purpose. But as it happened, there was no need for him to say anything. At that moment the butler came behind Lady Bolivick's chair and spoke to her. 'Captain Springfield!' she cried, 'and Charlie Buller. Oh, I am so glad. Charlie's evidently better, then. He wrote, telling me, when I asked him to come over to-night, that he was afraid he wouldn't be well enough.' I do not know why it was, but at that moment I looked towards Lorna Bolivick, and I saw her face flush with excitement. Evidently the mention of the new-comers' names meant a great deal to her. Then I looked at Edgecumbe, and I saw that he too had been watching her. CHAPTER XVII A NEW DEVELOPMENT Charlie Buller, as Lady Bolivick had called him, was a young fellow about twenty-four years of age, and was first lieutenant in the Devonshire yeomanry. He had been wounded in France, and some time before my return to England had been in a hospital in London. Only a few days before he had been discharged from the hospital, and had now returned to his Devonshire home on leave. He was the only son of a squire whose lands joined those of Sir Thomas Bolivick, and was, as Norah Blackwater told me during the evening, a suitor for Lorna Bolivick's hand. 'I think it is as good as settled,' she said to me, 'although no engagement has been announced. He will be a splendid match for her, too, and owns one of the finest estates in Devonshire. Didn't you see how excited Lorna became when she heard that he had come?' This was the first time I had seen Springfield since I had helped Edgecumbe to dig him from under a heap of rubbish in France. They had both dined early, they said, and the night being fine, had motored over, Charlie Buller's home being only four miles from Bolivick. Buller was a good-looking boy, fresh-coloured, curly-haired, and although in no way remarkable, quite likeable. Springfield I liked less now than when I had first seen him. His face looked paler and less wholesome than ever. The old scar which I had noticed on our first meeting revealed itself more plainly, while his somewhat sinister appearance repelled me. Sir Thomas, however, gave him a hearty greeting, and welcomed him to his house with great cordiality. Sir Thomas had dined well, and was by this time in great good humour.