“You have no other engagement?  I am delighted to hear it,” said Sir Stephen.  “Oh, I’ll take no denial!  What!  Do you think I shall part with an old friend so quickly—­and after such a—­er—­sudden and unexpected meeting!  Miss Falconer, let me beg you to plead with your father for me!”

Mr. Falconer regarded Sir Stephen for a moment curiously, then looked towards his daughter.  Her fine eyes rested on Stafford’s face, and he could do not less than repeat his father’s invitation.

“I hope you’ll consent, Miss Falconer,” he said.  “You have no doubt been a little upset by the accident, and it is rather late to go on.  Pray stay with us!”

“Thanks.  I shall be delighted.” she said, with her indolent, regal air.

By this time, as they went towards the gate, some of the men who had been walking in the garden came up, and Howard’s voice called out: 

“Hallo, Stafford!  Anything the matter?” “No; nothing whatever,” said Stafford, promptly; and Sir Stephen seized the opportunity to steer the Falconers through the group.  “Some old friends of mine, Mr. Howard; their carriage broke down—­fortunately at our very door—­this way, Falconer.  Stafford, will you give Miss Maude your arm?”

“Strange, our meeting again so soon, and under such circumstances,” she said.  “You must have stopped those horses very pluckily.  I thought that kind of thing was out of date now, and that gentlemen only called the police on such occasions.  You are sure you are not hurt?  I thought from your father’s face you must be.  He must be very fond of you to look so scared.  He was as white as a ghost.”

“He is fond of me, I hope and think,” said Stafford.  “Candidly, I did not think he would be so alarmed—­but I don’t know him very well yet—­we have been living apart until just recently.”

“Why, that is my case,” she said.  “My father and I were strangers until the other day, when he came from abroad—­What a beautiful house!  It is like a miniature palace.”

She looked at the Villa and then at Stafford with renewed interest.

“I suppose your father is the Sir Stephen Orme of whom one has heard so much?  I did not think of it until this moment.”

Stafford was giving instructions that the Falconers’ carriage should be seen to, and so was spared a reply.  She stood in the hall looking round with a kind of indolent admiration and surprise, and perfectly self-possessed, though the hall was rapidly filling with the men from the garden.

“You would like to go to your rooms at once,” said Sir Stephen, in his serene and courtly voice.  “If you should be too tired to come down again to-night I will have some dinner sent up to you—­but I hope you won’t be.  It would be a great disappointment.”

“Oh, I am not at all tired,” said Miss Falconer, as she followed the housekeeper and the two demure maids up the exquisite staircase.

Sir Stephen looked after them with a bland smile, then he turned to Stafford and caught his arm.