“Too many things for me to tell.”

His gray eyes said the rest.

While they were talking a sound of wheels was heard outside, followed by a ring at the door.  Keith sat facing the door, and could see the gentleman who entered the hail.  He was tall and a little gray, with a pleasant, self-contained face.  He turned toward the drawing-room, taking off his gloves as he walked.

“Her father.  He is quite distinguished-looking,” thought Keith.  “I wonder if he will come in here?  He looks younger than the dragon.”  He was in some trepidation at the idea of meeting Mr. Yorke.

When Keith looked at the ladies again some change had taken place in both of them.  Their faces wore a different expression:  Mrs. Yorke’s was one of mingled disquietude and relief, and Miss Alice’s an expression of discontent and confusion.  Keith settled himself and waited to be presented.

The gentleman came in with a pleased air as his eye rested on the young lady.

“There is where she gets her high-bred looks—­from her father,” thought Keith; rising.

The next moment the gentleman was shaking hands warmly with Miss Alice and cordially with Mrs. Yorke.  And then, after a pause,—­a pause in which Miss Alice had looked at her mother,—­the girl introduced “Mr. Lancaster.”  He turned and spoke to Keith pleasantly.

“Mr. Keith is—­an acquaintance we made in the South when we were there winter before last,” said Mrs. Yorke.

“A friend of ours,” said the girl.  She turned back to Keith.

“Tell me what Dr. Balsam said.”

“Mr. Keith knows the Wentworths—­I believe you know the Wentworths very well?” Mrs. Yorke addressed Mr. Keith.

“Yes, I have known Norman since we were boys.  I have met his mother, but I never met his father.”

Mrs. Yorke was provoked at the stupidity of denying so advantageous an acquaintance.  But Mr. Lancaster took more notice of Keith than he had done before.  His dark eyes had a gleam of amusement in them as he turned and looked at the young man.  Something in him recalled the past.

“From the South, you say?”

“Yes, sir.”  He named his State with pride.

“Did I catch your name correctly?  Is it Keith?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I used to know a gentleman of that name—­General Keith.”

“There were several of them,” answered the young man, with pride.  “My father was known as ‘General Keith of Elphinstone.’”

“That was he.  I captured him.  He was desperately wounded, and I had the pleasure of having him attended to, and afterwards of getting him exchanged.  How is he?  Is he still living?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Lancaster turned to the ladies.  “He was one of the bravest men I have known,” he said.  “I was once a recipient of his gracious hospitality.  I went South to look into some matters there,” he explained to the ladies.

The speech brought a gratified look into Keith’s eyes.  Mrs. Yorke was divided between her feeling of relief that Mr. Lancaster should know of Keith’s social standing and her fear that such praise might affect Alice.  After a glance at the girl’s face the latter predominated.