The woman, or rather girl, who was concerned in it, for looking at her in a severe light she did not appeal to be more than twenty, bore upon her no marks of the shameless adventuress. It was easy to see that she was not a member of his own World, the World of plutocracy mingled into aristocracy by judicious intermarriage. The "county" would not, of course, open their doors to her. According to her own account, the respectable "villadom" of the sleepy old town had not called upon her, on account of the absence of convincing credentials. The meeting happened in this way. Hugh found himself with a blank afternoon, an afternoon that had not been filled up. He could call at lots of houses and get tea. But, at this period, he was becoming a little fed-up with the Blankfield teas, the simpering girls, the astute mothers who Wanted to take the heir of the Murchison millions off his guard, and hook him for a son-in-law. Coming from a long line of successful tradesmen, Hugh had rather less brains than he ought to have acquired by heredity. Still, he was no fool. As long as a proposition was not too complex, he could size it up pretty accurately. And he sized up the Blankfield hospitality at its true worth. He walked down the High Street, and turned into the first tea-shop. It was a well-known establishment, and the dashing members of the Twenty-fifth were wont to invite hither for tea some of the Blankfield maidens who were not too particular as to chaperonage. He expected to find here a good few of his brother officers. To his surprise, he did not see one. But the room was very full. To a casual observer, every table seemed occupied. He was about to turn away, when a waitress, who knew him well, touched him on the arm. "It's quite all right, Captain Murchison,"--Hugh had arrived at seniority very early: "there's a table up there at the far end. There's only a young lady there, and she has very nearly finished her tea." The young lady in question was quite young; Hugh decided from the first swift glance at her that she could not be more than twenty. She was exceedingly pretty, with wavy light hair and soft brown eyes. She wore an air of composure remarkable in one so youthful. The young man knew her well by sight, as did his brother officers. She was frequently to be seen in the High Street, flitting in and out shops, sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by a rather common-looking person, some ten years her senior. It was said they were brother and sister and their name was Burton.