"Wasn't he a darling to come over?" she said to Lady Mary. "I should have forgiven him if he hadn't, but I love him ever so much more because he did." To which somewhat incoherent declaration Mary had replied with her usual air of experience and worldly wisdom. "All men have something bad in them, and most women. But I think dear old Guy has the least bad in him that a man can have." Lord Saxham was very kind, very gentle, very paternal to his son's betrothed. He had only seen General Clandon once, and he could not pretend to feel any great interest in him. But that sudden death reminded him that he also was nearing the goal. The remembrance of that fact softened, at least temporarily, his asperities, curbed his explosive temper. The two girls were sitting in Mary's cosy little boudoir. It was a very charming room, reflecting in every detail the delicate and discriminating taste of the young _chatelaine_. "Mary, I can never go back to Eastbourne. I loved that little home so much while he was there. But now it would be torture. I should see him in every room, and I should want to cry out to him and he could not speak to me. Oh, I don't think you can guess what we were to each other." "Have you thought of anything, dear?" asked Mary in her kind, gentle voice. She knew the girl was half hysterical with her sorrow. "I should so love to go to Spain to be near Guy. Did I tell you dear father wanted to take me himself, only a few days before he died, and the doctor forbade him. Oh, Mary, if you could only come too?" "I would love to," said Mary slowly. "But you know as well as I do that my duty lies here. My father is old, I dare not leave him, and, in spite of his little faults of temper, he has been a dear, kind parent." "I understand perfectly," was Isobel's answer. "But, you see, nothing now ties me to England. All the world meant to me only two people, my father and Guy. Now, only Guy is left. I would love to be near him, even if he did not know." Mary pondered a little. "I wonder if that nice cousin of yours could help in the matter?" Isobel caught at the suggestion at once. "Yes, he is very clever. I will go up and see him to-morrow." "No need for that, dear. I will send him a wire at once, asking him to come down to-morrow to see you." "But he is always so frightfully busy," cried Isobel. "Bah!" said the more practical Lady Mary. "I know he is going to do wonderful things in the future, but he has plenty of time. When I send him that wire, he will come." Lady Mary sent off the telegram. It was quite a little excitement in her usually placid life. Farquhar came down as quickly as he could. He had handed over his briefs to a friend. Lord Saxham greeted him kindly, being apprised by his daughter of his arrival. The poor old Earl was very subdued by now; he was quite prepared to make any amount of new acquaintances. His daughter had affairs well in hand. Lady Mary plunged into matters at once.