“Is her ladyship not yet returned from her walk, Ash?” asked Lady Belstone, with affected surprise.

“Her ladyship came in some time ago, my lady, and went to see Sir Timothy.  She left word she was gone upstairs to change her walking things, and would be down directly.”

The sisters greeted the canon with effusion, and Dr. Blundell with frigid civility.

John Crewys shook hands with both gentlemen.

“I am sorry I cannot offer you tea, Canon Birch, until my sister-in-law comes down,” said Miss Crewys.

“Our dear Lady Mary is so very unpunctual,” said Lady Belstone.

“I dare say something has detained her,” said the canon, good-humouredly.

“It often happens that my sister and myself are kept waiting a quarter of an hour or more for our tea.  We do not complain,” said Lady Belstone.

John Crewys began to feel a little sorry for Lady Mary.

As the sisters appeared inclined to devote themselves to their clerical visitor rather exclusively, he drew near the recess to which Dr. Blundell had retired, and joined him in the oriel window.

“Have you never been here before?” asked the doctor, rather abruptly.

“Never,” said John Crewys, smiling.  “I understand my cousins are not much given to entertaining visitors.  I have never, in fact, seen any of them but once before.  That was at Sir Timothy’s wedding, twenty years ago.”

“Barely nineteen,” said the doctor.

“I believe it was nineteen, since you remind me,” said John, slightly astonished.  “I remember thinking Sir Timothy a lucky man.”

“I dare say he looked much about the same as he does now,” said the doctor.

“Well,” John said, “perhaps a little slimmer, you know.  Not much.  An iron-grey, middle-aged-looking man.  No; he has changed very little.”

“He was born elderly, and he will die elderly,” said the doctor, shortly.  “Neither the follies of youth nor the softening of age will ever be known to Sir Timothy.”  He paused, noting the surprised expression of John’s face, and added apologetically, “I am a native of these parts.  I have known him all my life.”

“And I am—­only a stranger,” said John.  He hesitated, and lowered his voice.  “You know why I came?”

“Yes, I know.  I am very glad you did come,” said the doctor.  His tone changed.  “Here is Lady Mary,” he said.

John Crewys was struck by the sudden illumination of Dr. Blundell’s plain, dark face.  The deeply sunken eyes glowed, and the sadness and weariness of their expression were dispelled.

His eyes followed the direction of the doctor’s gaze, and his own face immediately reflected the doctor’s interest.

Lady Mary was coming down the wide staircase, in the light of a group of wax candles held by a tall bronze angel.

She was dressed with almost rigid simplicity, and her abundant light-brown hair was plainly parted.  She was pale and even sad-looking, but beautiful still; with a delicate and regular profile, soft blue eyes, and a sweet, rather tremulous mouth.