For an instant the man and woman looked deep into each other's eyes, as though to bridge the time which had passed since last they met--questioning what the intervening years had brought to each of them. But Eliot made no attempt to take the outheld hand. He did not appear to see it, and Mrs. Hilyard let it drop slowly down again on to her lap. "Forgotten Cara Daintree?" he said lightly. "Is it likely I should?" "Cara Hilyard, now." She corrected him a shade nervously. "Oh, yes. Hilyard, isn't it? Of course." His glance flashed over her face, searching and cold as a hawk's. She winced under it, but faced him gallantly, though a flush crept up under her clear skin. "I hear we are near neighbours. I hope"--she forced herself to meet those hard, unflinching eyes--"I hope you will come and see me, Mr. Coventry." He bowed stiffly. "Thanks," was all he said. Then, laying his hand on the cob's shining flank, he deliberately addressed himself to Ann: "Is Dick Turpin still behaving himself properly?" She nodded. "He's a perfect cherub," she assured him warmly. "Any one could manage him--even when he has an attack of high spirits. He's got a mouth like velvet." "There's something to be said for the driver's hands, possibly," suggested Coventry, with a smile. "Light hands make a light mouth. Still, I'm glad to know he suits you." He whistled up his dog, who came racing to heel, then, with a grave bow which briefly included Mrs. Hilyard, lifted his hat and resumed his way along the lane. Ann drove on, and ten minutes later pulled her horse up at the Priory doors. Mrs. Hilyard stepped lightly out of the trap. She moved beautifully, with a deer-like ease and grace. "Now when will you and your brother come over to lunch?" she asked, as she shook hands. "He promised--for you both--to come and help me with advice about arranging my rooms. You must go on as you've begun--being neighbourly, you know," she added quaintly. "But we shall be cut out now by an older friend," said Ann, when they had fixed a day for the lunch appointment. "Oh, no"--quickly. "No man can take the place of a woman friend--and I hope you're going to be that?" Ann smiled down into the lovely upraised face with frank comradeship. "I hope so, too," she returned heartily. "Still, it's jolly for you finding an old friend like Mr. Coventry living next door, so to speak, isn't it?" For a moment Mrs. Hilyard hesitated. Then: "Very jolly," she replied, with a brief, enigmatic smile. CHAPTER XII A NEW ACQUAINTANCE August had come in on a wave of such breathless heat that each day the weather-wise foretold a thunderstorm. But, although the heavy, sultry air and lowering skies seemed pregnant with impending tempest, with every evening would come a clearer atmosphere and all signs of thunder disappear until the following day, when the stifling heat closed down once more like an invisible pall.