I heard Grooton return with a sigh of relief.

“You will have some tea,” I suggested.

She shook her head and stood up.  I did not press her.

“No, I won’t,” she said.  “I am sorry I came.  I don’t understand you, Mr. Ducaine.  You seem to have changed altogether just these last few weeks.  I can see that you are dying to get rid of me now, but you were glad enough to see me, or at any rate you pretended to be, once.”

My breath was a little taken away.  I looked at her in surprise.  Her cheeks were flushed, her voice had shaken with something more like anger than any form of pathos.  I was at a loss how to answer her, and while I hesitated the interruption which I had been praying for came, though from a strange quarter.  My door was pushed a few inches open, and I heard Lady Angela’s clear young voice.

“Are you there, Mr. Ducaine?  May I come in?”

Before I could answer she stood upon the threshold, I saw the delightful little smile fade from her lips as she looked in.  She hesitated, and seemed for a moment about to retreat.

“Please come in, Lady Angela,” I begged, eagerly.

She came slowly forward.

“I must apologize for my abominable country manners,” she said, resting the tips of her fingers for a moment in mine.  “I saw your door was not latched, and it never occurred to me to knock.”

“It was not necessary,” I assured her.  “A front door which does not boast a knocker or a bell must expect to be taken liberties with.  But it is a great surprise to see you here.  I had no idea that any one was at Rowchester, or expected there, except Lord Blenavon.  Has the Duke returned?”

She shook her head.

“I came down alone,” she answered.  “I found London dull.  Let me see, I am sure that I know your face, do I not?” she added, turning to Blanche Moyat with a smile.  “You live in Braster, surely?”

“I am Miss Moyat,” Blanche answered quietly.

“Of course.  Dear me!  I ought to have recognized you.  We have been neighbours for a good many years.”

“I will wish you good-afternoon, Mr. Ducaine,” Blanche said, turning to me.  “Good-afternoon—­your Ladyship,” she added a little awkwardly.

I opened the door for her.

“I will come down and see your father the first evening I have to spare,” I said.  “I hope you will tell him from me that I should have been before, but for the luxury of having some work to do.”

“I will tell him,” she said almost inaudibly.

“And thank you very much for coming to inquire after me,” I added.  “Good-afternoon.”

“Good-afternoon, Mr. Ducaine.”

I closed the door.  Lady Angela was lounging in my easy chair with a slight smile upon her lips.

“Two lady callers in one afternoon, Mr. Ducaine,” she remarked quietly.  “You will lose your head, I am afraid.”

“I can assure you, Lady Angela,” I answered, “that there is not the slightest fear of such a catastrophe.”