Yet nothing could have been more unassuming than Elizabeth’s entry.  It was evident, indeed, that Forest was overjoyed to see her.  He shouldered her modest boxes and bags with a will, and a housemaid, all smiles, came running half way downstairs to take some of his burden from him.  Elizabeth followed the butler and took Mrs. Gaddesden’s hand.

‘My train was late.  I hope you’ve not waited tea?’

‘Why, of course we have,’ said the Squire’s voice.  ’Forest!—­tea at once.’

Elizabeth, not having perceived his approach in the dimness of the February twilight, turned with a start to greet the Squire.  He looked, to her eyes, lankier and thinner and queerer than ever.  But it was a distinguished queerness.  Elizabeth had forgotten that the brow and eyes were so fine, and the hair so glistening white.  The large nose and small captious chin passed unnoticed.  She was astonished at her own throb of pleasure in seeing her employer again.

His pleasure was boisterously evident, though presently he showed it in his usual way by attacking her.  But first Mrs. Gaddesden made the proper enquiries after Elizabeth’s invalid mother.

Elizabeth, looking extremely tired as she sat by the fire, in the chair which the Squire—­most unwonted attention!—­had drawn up for her, said that her mother was better, and volunteered nothing further.  The Squire, meanwhile, had observed her looks, and was chafing inwardly against invalid relations who made unjust claims upon their kith and kin and monstrously insisted on being nursed by them.  But he had the sense to hold his tongue, and even to profess a decent sympathy.

Then, without any further preamble, he plunged into his own affairs.

‘Everything’s gone to rack and ruin since you left,’ he said vehemently.  ‘Of course you knew it would!’

Elizabeth’s eyebrows lifted.  The look, half tolerant, half amused, with which she greeted sallies of this kind was one of her attractions for the Squire.

‘What’s Captain Dell been doing?’ she inquired.

‘Marking time!’ was the testy reply.  ’He’s been no good by himself—­I knew he wouldn’t be—­no more use than old Hull.’

Elizabeth’s expression showed her sceptical.

‘And the timber?’

’Just where you left it.  The rascally fellows want all sorts of conditions.  You may accept them if you like—­I won’t.  But I told them we’d meet them in the woods to-morrow—­you, and Dell and I. And Chicksands, who likes poking his nose into everything, is coming too.’

‘Sir Henry?’ asked Elizabeth in astonishment.

’Well, I thought you might like the old boy’s opinion, so I rang him up on that horrid thing you’ve put into the office.  I don’t care about his opinion in the least!’

A treat arranged for her return!  Elizabeth felt as if she were being offered Sir Henry’s head on a charger.

‘That will be a great help!’ she said with rather artificial enthusiasm, at which the Squire only shrugged his shoulders.  ’Has Sir Henry been over here—­’