“No, he’s not married,” she said slowly. “I think he’s in love too often to fix upon any one lady.” There was something in her face that prevented Rhoda from asking any more questions on that subject. Indeed, Mrs. Hawkes was not prepared to answer any more, for she changed the subject and said: “Do you remember the two children who were here at the time of your accident, miss?” “Why, yes, of course I do. George and Minnie. What has become of them? The Terrors you used to call them.” “And the Terrors they are still,” said Mrs. Hawkes emphatically. “They’re away now; Master George he’s at Sandhurst, and Miss Minnie she’s staying in Normandy with friends for the summer holidays. But they live here still, and I don’t say I’d be without them, though their battles with my lady don’t give one much peace.” “Battles?” “Yes, they’re just what they always were, and the plague of all our lives.” “I wonder whether they’ll recognise me!” said Rhoda. “Trust them for it!” “But Sir Robert doesn’t.” Mrs. Hawkes looked at her. “Well, there’s no need to be astonished, for he’s so short-sighted, and he lives so much shut up with his books and his collections, that he hasn’t much memory for anything else. He’s taken to collecting since you were here, miss, and he’s got a gallery of pictures that people come for miles to see. That’s what the north wing was built for, to put them in. And the south wing, that was for my lady’s dances. Not that she gives many of them now.” There was a little constraint on both sides now that Rhoda had confessed that Sir Robert had failed to recognise her. Mrs. Hawkes looked disturbed. At last she said: “I was wondering, if I may make so bold as say so, miss, whether Sir Robert would let you stay here again, if he was to remember you.” Rhoda looked startled and uneasy. “Why should he mind?” she asked quickly. “Oh, only that he doesn’t in general like to be reminded of that time. And if he had recognised you, he couldn’t but have thought of it, could he?” “N-no,” said Rhoda, beginning to feel nervous. There was another silence, and then Mrs. Hawkes ventured: “Would it be taking too great a liberty, miss, to ask how you came to want to come back here, after all these years? For you must have remembered too, what happened, and have felt uncomfortable about it, I should think?” Rhoda blushed hotly. “Of course I knew what happened, through the newspapers and what I was told,” she said. “But I didn’t think it could matter. How should it? I didn’t know anything.” “No, miss.” Mrs. Hawkes looked down again. “May I venture to ask whether you found the master altered, miss?” Rhoda’s lips trembled a little as she replied: “Yes, I did. He doesn’t look so young, of course, as he did then.” “Nor so happy,” suggested the housekeeper almost under her breath. “And do you still think him as handsome as you did?” Rhoda tried to laugh.