Marcia, who had dreamed all night of blue skies flecked with little fragments of white cloud, a soft west wind and sun-bathed meadows, descended the creaking stairs of the Inn at Fakenham, paused upon the broad landing to admire the great oak chests and the cupboards full of china, and then made her way to the coffee room. She found Borden standing at the window, looking down into the country street and talking with a stranger, whom he left, however, at her entrance. They took their places at the breakfast table to which a waiter ushered them. "Still lucky," her companion remarked, as he watched Marcia pour out the coffee. "It's going to be another delightful day." She glanced out into the sunlit street. Just opposite was a house almost hidden in clematis, and in the background was a tall row of elm trees amongst the branches of which the rooks were cawing. "I feel like Rip van Winkle," she whispered. "Do you know that twenty-five years ago I came to what is called a Farmers' Ordinary in this very room? Tell me," she went on, "who was the man with whom you were talking? His face is quite familiar to me." He glanced around. Thain had taken his place at the further end of the room. "The man of whom we were speaking the other day," he said,--"David Thain. I think that you have met him, haven't you?" She nodded. "Why, of course! I didn't recognise him in tweeds. Whatever is he doing down here? But I know before you can tell me," she continued quickly. "He has taken Broomleys, hasn't he?" "He told me that he had taken a house in the neighbourhood," Borden replied. "He is going over there this morning to meet the present occupiers." "It is a very small world," Marcia observed. "I wonder whether he recognised me." "Without undue flattery, I think I might say that I should think it probable." "And of course he is imagining all sorts of improper things,--chuckling about them, I dare say, in the way men do. He is being what I suppose he thinks tactful. He never glances in this direction at all. I'll give him a surprise in a minute or two!" They finished their breakfast, and Marcia crossed towards David's table. As soon as he was conscious of her approach, he rose. He welcomed her, however, without a smile. "From Trewly's at dinner to the Mandeleys Arms for breakfast," she remarked, smiling. "I feel quite flattered that you remembered me, Mr. Thain." "Did I show any signs of remembering you?" he asked a little grimly. "Of course you didn't," she acknowledged. "You ignored even my sweetest bow. That is why I felt sure that you recognised me perfectly." David remained silent, standing still with an air of complete but respectful patience. "You have taken a house down here, the Marquis tells me," she continued. "I have taken Broomleys." "I hope that you will like the neighbourhood," she said. "I used to live here once myself." "So I understood."