“How very extraordinary!  Why then, you must have been everywhere.”

“Very nearly.  But I would much rather be in Billingsfield.”

“You never told me,” said Mrs. Goddard almost reproachfully.  “What a change it must have been for you, from the sea to the life of a country gentleman!”

“It is what I always wanted.”

“But you do not seem at all like the sea captains one hears about—­”

“Well, perhaps not,” replied the squire thoughtfully.  “There are a great many different classes of sea captains.  I always had a taste for books.  A man can read a great deal on a long voyage.  I have sometimes been at sea for more than two years at a time.  Besides, I had a fairly good education and—­well, I suppose it was because I was a gentleman to begin with and was more than ten years in the Royal Navy.  All that makes a great difference.  Have you ever made a long voyage, Mrs. Goddard?”

“I have crossed the channel,” said she.  “But I wish you would tell me something more about your life.”

“Oh no—­it is very dull, all that.  You always make me talk about myself,” said the squire in a tone of protestation.

“It is very interesting.”

“But—­could we not vary the conversation by talking about you a little?” suggested Mr. Juxon.

“Oh no!  Please—­” exclaimed Mrs. Goddard rather nervously.  She grew pale and busied herself again with the tea.  “Do tell me more about your voyages.  I suppose that was the way you collected so many beautiful things, was it not?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” answered the squire, looking at her curiously.  “In fact of course it was.  I was a great deal in China and South America and India, and in all sorts of places where one picks up things.”

“And in Turkey, too, where you got Stamboul?”

“Yes.  He was so wet that I left him outside to day.  Did not want to spoil your carpet.”

The squire had a way of turning the subject when he seemed upon the point of talking about himself which was very annoying to Mrs. Goddard.  But she had not entirely recovered her equanimity and for the moment had lost control of the squire.  Besides she had a headache that day.

“Stamboul does not get the benefit of the contrast we were talking about at first,” she remarked, in order to say something.

“I could not possibly bring him in,” returned the squire looking at her again.  “Excuse me, Mrs. Goddard—­I don’t mean to be inquisitive you know, but—­I always want to be of any use.”

She looked at him inquiringly.

“I mean, to be frank, I am afraid that something is giving you trouble.  I have noticed it for some time.  You know, if I can be of any use, if I can help you in any way—­you have only to say the word.”

Again she looked at him.  She did not know why it was so, but the genuinely friendly tone in which he made the offer touched her.  She was surprised, however; she could not understand why he should think she was in trouble, and indeed she was in no greater distress than she had suffered during the greater part of the last three years.