"I can't quite make the governor out," so Pierce wrote. "He spoke very decidedly, but there was a queer look in his eyes, as though he thought it was rather a joke to forbid me seeing the girl I love for a whole year. I suppose he thinks I shall find someone else in the meantime, but I won't, and that's very certain. We shall just have to wait the year--and that will be hard enough for both of us." Mostyn, having read the letter with genuine sympathy, put it carefully away, reflecting that it was strange that Pierce, like himself, should have a year's probation before him. He had written to his friend the night before, telling him, in confidence, something of his accession to fortune and the conditions imposed thereon, inviting him also to come to Partinborough Grange and talk the future over as early as possible. Partinborough station reached, Mostyn descended from the train and looked about for Samuel Willis and the conveyance which he had asked by letter to be sent to meet him. But Samuel Willis was conspicuous by his absence, nor was there a sign of any kind of carriage on the long level road outside the little wayside station. Could it be possible that his letter had miscarried, and that the gardener had not been warned of his coming? Under these circumstances it was necessary for Mostyn to hire a cab, and there was a delay of some twenty minutes--which Mostyn spent at the Station Hotel--till the ramshackle old conveyance was brought round. The little town of Partinborough, he learnt, lay about a mile from the station, on the main road to Newmarket, and the Grange occupied a rather isolated position another mile further on. It was nearly seven o'clock when, having passed through the little town and then negotiated some extremely narrow and rutty lanes, the cab came to a halt for a moment, while the driver descended from his box to open a wooden gate that gave access to a drive through a small wood. Mostyn concluded, and concluded rightly, that he was now upon his own property. He gazed about him with curiosity. The road branched, and the wood was denser than he had first thought. To the left there was an incline, below which, and just visible through the thickly-massed trees, Mostyn could discern the glimmer of a little stream. Upon the other side the trees became gradually less dense, till between them an open space, evidently an undulating lawn, could be distinguished. Presently, the road made an abrupt turn in this direction, and the house came in sight. Even at a cursory view it was evident that Partinborough Grange was of considerable antiquity. It was a house of no great size, but it had many gables and was pleasantly irregular in proportion. It was ivy-covered, too, almost to the roof, and the windows were framed with rose creepers. The porch before which the carriage drew up was a veritable mass of white and red blooms.