“Is Miss Nellie out?” he asked, coming forward and taking Mrs. Goddard’s hand.  He had not yet reached the point of calling the child plain “Nellie;” he would have thought it an undue familiarity.

“She is gone to the vicarage,” answered Mrs. Goddard.  “What a dreadful day!  You must be nearly frozen.  Will you have a cup of tea?”

“No thanks—­no, you are very kind.  I have had a good walk; I am not cold—­never am.  As you say, in such weather I could not resist the temptation to come in.  This is a capital day to test that India-rubber tubing we have put round your windows.  Excuse me—­I will just look and see if the air comes through.”

Mr. Juxon carefully examined the windows of the sitting-room and then returned to his seat.

“It is quite air-tight, I think,” he said with some satisfaction, as he smoothed his hair with his hand.

“Oh, quite,” said Mrs. Goddard.  “It was so very good of you.”

“Not a bit of it,” returned the squire cheerily.  “A landlord’s chief pre-occupation ought to be the comfort of his tenants and his next thought should be to keep his houses in repair.  I never owned any houses before, so I have determined to start with good principles.”

“I am sure you succeed.  You walked down?”

“Always walk, in any weather.  It is much less trouble and much cheaper.  Besides, I like it.”

“The best of all reasons.  Then you will not have any tea?  I almost wish you would, because I want some myself.”

“Oh of course—­in that case I shall be delighted.  Shall I ring?”

He rang and Martha brought the tea.  Some time was consumed in the preparations which Mr. Juxon watched with interest as though he had never seen tea made before.  Everything that Mrs. Goddard did interested him.

“I do not know why it is,” she said at last, “but weather like this is delightful when one is safe at home.  I suppose it is the contrast—­”

“Yes indeed.  It is like the watch below in dirty-weather.”

“Excuse me—­I don’t quite understand—­”

“At sea,” explained the squire.  “There is no luxury like being below when the decks are wet and there is heavy weather about.”

“I should think so,” said Mrs. Goddard.  “Have you been at sea much, Mr. Juxon?”

“Thirty years,” returned the squire laconically.  Mrs. Goddard looked at him in astonishment.

“You don’t mean to say you have been a sailor all your life?”

“Does that surprise you?  I have been a sailor since I was twelve years old.  But I got very tired of it.  It is a hard life.”

“Were you in the navy, Mr. Juxon?” asked Mrs. Goddard eagerly, feeling that she was at last upon the track of some information in regard to his past life.

“Yes—­I was in the navy,” answered the squire, slowly.  “And then I was at college, and then in the navy again.  At last I entered the merchant service and commanded my own ships for nearly twenty years.”