"I know your friend is going to introduce you in proper form. But it is really quite unnecessary. I know you are Mr. Pomfret. I have learned the names of all the officers from the tradespeople, also, my only friends in Blankfield. Perhaps Captain Murchison has told you what I confided to him the other day, that we are as isolated here as if we were on a desert island." Mr. Pomfret sat down beside her on a small Chesterfield. From his vantage point he could gaze into the beautiful eyes, he could note the lustre of that fair, wavy hair. "A beastly shame," growled the young subaltern, at a loss for appropriate words to express the enormities of Blankfield Society. She turned away lightly, as if the subject interested her no further. "I think we will have tea. My brother is engaged in scientific pursuits. when he can tear himself away, he will join us. Captain Murchison, will you kindly ring the bell?" Truly, she had the manners of a woman of the world. She took the homage of the two men as an accomplished fact. The villadom of Blankfield could not produce such a hostess, so free from fussiness or exaggerated hospitality. You would have to go to the "county" to find her parallel. The two men exchanged appreciative glances. Whatever her origin, Miss Burton could shine in any circle in which she found herself permanently, or temporarily, located. The tea was served, and over the tea-cups they chatted in desultory fashion. Then the drawing-room door opened, and Mr. Burton appeared. From the moment of his appearance, the atmosphere seemed to be changed. He advanced towards them with outstretched hands. His manner was extremely cordial, but it went beyond the limits of good taste. His tones were breezy but blusterous. There was a rasping and a vulgar ring in his voice. "Welcome to our humble abode, gentlemen. It is very brave of you to come and visit the boycotted ones." Hugh and Jack Pomfret fidgeted in their chairs. This common-looking young man was a bit too communicative about his private affairs. They had a slight suspicion that he had been indulging in alcohol, his manner was so unrestrained. Mr. Burton sank down in his chair, and took a cup of tea from the hands of his attentive sister. The visitors did not see it, but she shot a warning glance at him, and in face of that warning glance, Mr. Burton, by a strong effort, pulled himself together. "You see, gentlemen, I feel very sore about this matter; my sister has a calmer temperament, and she takes things as they come. Here we came from the North of Ireland, from a little town where we were highly looked up to, where we knew every man, woman and child in the place. We came here, and, as I say, we are boycotted."