They went into the morning room. Annabel stood at the window; her companion flitted about, catching glimpses of herself in reflecting surfaces. In five minutes the study door opened, and men's voices drew near. Egremont met Miss Tyrrell with the manner of an old acquaintance, but unsmiling. 'I am fortunate enough to see you well again without having known of your illness,' he said. 'You didn't know that I was ill?' Paula looked at him dubiously. He explained, and, in doing so, quite dispelled the girl's illusion that he was come on her account. When she remained silent, he said: 'You must pity the people in London.' 'Certainly I do. I'm learning to keep my temper and to talk wisely. I know nobody in London who could teach me to do either the one or the other.' 'Well, I suppose you'll go out till luncheon-time?' said Mr. Newthorpe. 'Egremont wants to have a pull. You'll excuse an old man.' They left the house, and for an hour drank the breath of the hillsides. Paula was at first taciturn. Very unlike herself she dabbled her fingers over the boat-side, and any light remark that she made was addressed to her cousin. Annabel exerted herself to converse, chiefly telling of the excursions that had been made with Paula during the past week. 'What have you been doing in Jersey?' Paula asked of Egremont, presently. Her tone was indifferent, a little condescending. 'Reading.' 'Novels?' 'No.' 'And where are you going next?' 'I shall live in London. My travels are over, I think.' 'We have heard that too often,' said Annabel. 'Did you ever calculate how many miles you have travelled since you left Oxford?' 'I have been a restless fellow,' he admitted, regarding her with quiet scrutiny, 'but I dare say some profit has come of my wanderings. However, it's time to set to work.' 'Work!' asked Paula in surprise. 'What sort of work?' 'Local preacher's.' Paula moved her lips discontentedly. 'That is your way of telling me to mind my own business. Don't you find the sun dreadfully hot, Annabel? Do please row into a shady place, Mr. Egremont.' His way of handling the oars showed that he was no stranger to exercise of this kind. His frame, though a trifle meagre, was well set. By degrees a preoccupation which had been manifest in him gave way under the influence of the sky, and when it was time to approach the landing-place he had fallen into a mood of cheerful talk--light with Paula, with Annabel more earnest. His eyes often passed from one to the other of the faces opposite him, with unmarked observation; frequently he fixed his gaze on the remoter hills in brief musing. Mr. Newthorpe had come down to the water to meet them; he had a newspaper in his hand. 'Your friend Dalmaine is eloquent on education,' he said, with a humorous twitching of the eyebrows.