“I am not very anxious to leave Blanche, Sir—­that’s the truth of it.”

“Never mind Blanche.  Blanche is not business.  They both begin with a B—­and that’s the only connection between them.  I hear you have got one of the finest houses in this part of Scotland.  How long are you going to stay in Scotland?  How long are you going to stay in it?”

“I have arranged (as I have already told you, Sir) to return to Windygates the day after to-morrow.”

“What!  Here is a man with a palace waiting to receive him—­and he is only going to stop one clear day in it!”

“I am not going to stop in it at all, Sir Patrick—­I am going to stay with the steward.  I’m only wanted to be present to-morrow at a dinner to my tenants—­and, when that’s over, there’s nothing in the world to prevent my coming back here.  The steward himself told me so in his last letter.”

“Oh, if the steward told you so, of course there is nothing more to be said!”

“Don’t object to my coming back! pray don’t, Sir Patrick!  I’ll promise to live in my new house when I have got Blanche to live in it with me.  If you won’t mind, I’ll go and tell her at once that it all belongs to her as well as to me.”

“Gently! gently! you talk as if you were married to her already!”

“It’s as good as done, Sir!  Where’s the difficulty in the way now?”

As he asked the question the shadow of some third person, advancing from the side of the summer-house, was thrown forward on the open sunlit space at the top of the steps.  In a moment more the shadow was followed by the substance—­in the shape of a groom in his riding livery.  The man was plainly a stranger to the place.  He started, and touched his hat, when he saw the two gentlemen in the summer-house.

“What do you want?” asked Sir Patrick

“I beg your pardon, Sir; I was sent by my master—­”

“Who is your master?”

“The Honorable Mr. Delamayn, Sir.”

“Do you mean Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn?” asked Arnold.

“No, Sir.  Mr. Geoffrey’s brother—­Mr. Julius.  I have ridden over from the house, Sir, with a message from my master to Mr. Geoffrey.”

“Can’t you find him?”

“They told me I should find him hereabouts, Sir.  But I’m a stranger, and don’t rightly know where to look.”  He stopped, and took a card out of his pocket.  “My master said it was very important I should deliver this immediately.  Would you be pleased to tell me, gentlemen, if you happen to know where Mr. Geoffrey is?”

Arnold turned to Sir Patrick.  “I haven’t seen him.  Have you?”

“I have smelt him,” answered Sir Patrick, “ever since I have been in the summer-house.  There is a detestable taint of tobacco in the air—­suggestive (disagreeably suggestive to my mind) of your friend, Mr. Delamayn.”

Arnold laughed, and stepped outside the summer-house.

“If you are right, Sir Patrick, we will find him at once.”  He looked around, and shouted, “Geoffrey!”