The rooms were still deserted when she returned to them. My lady stood a moment in the hall, wondering if everybody was out. The door at the end, shutting off the portion of the house used by the young men, caught her eye, and she resolved to go on an exploration tour. Opening the door softly, she saw Richard Thornycroft in the passage talking to Hyde. He raised his hat, as in courtesy bound; but his dark stern face never relaxed a muscle; and somehow it rather daunted her. "My father's wife, I believe," said Richard. "To what am I indebted for the honour of this visit?" Just as if the rooms at this end of the house were his! But my lady made the best of it. "It is Mr. Richard, I am sure! Let us be friends." She held out her hand, and he touched the tips of her fingers. "Certainly. If we are not friends the fault will lie on your side," he pointedly said. "I interfere with no one in the house. I expect no one to interfere with me. Let us observe this rule to each other, and I dare say we shall get on very well." She gently slid her hand within his, encased in its rough coat. Hyde, recovering from his trance of amazement, touched his hat, and went out at the outer door. "I have not been in this portion of the house. Will you show it to me?" "I will show it to you with pleasure: what little there is of it to see," replied Richard. "But--once seen, I must request you to understand that these rooms are for gentlemen only. Ladies are out of place in them." She had a great mind to ask why; but did not. Very poor rooms, as Richard said--one on either side the passage. Small and plain in comparison with the rest of the house. A strip of thick cocoa-nut matting ran along the passage to the outer door. It was open, and my lady advanced to it. Looking at the most confined prospect she ever saw; in fact, at no prospect at all. A wall, in which there was a small door of egress, shut out all view of the sea and the plateau. Another wall, with wide gates of wood, hid the courtyard and the buildings beyond. Opposite, in almost close proximity, leaving just space for the dog-cart or other vehicles to come in and turn, was the room used as a coach-house, formerly part of the stables when the house was a castle. My lady walked across the gravel, and entered it. A half-smile crossed Richard's face. "There's not much to see here," he said. Certainly not much. The dog-cart stood in one corner; in another were some trusses of straw, and a dilapidated cart turned upside down. Adjoining was a stable for the two horses alternately used in the dog-cart. My lady stepped back to the house door, and took a deliberate survey of the whole. "It strikes me as being the dreariest-looking spot possible," she said. "A dead wall on each side, and a shut-in coach-house opposite!" "Yes. Those who planned it had not much regard to prospect," answered Richard. "But, then, prospect is not wanted here."