“What a hard fate!—­but you have not told me yet why you ran away!”

The girl had finished her toilet by now, and reseated herself with a grown-up air in the big armchair.

“Oh! well, he was just—­horrid—­that was all,” and then abruptly turning the conversation, “It is a nice place you have here, and it does feel lovely doing something wrong like this—­having tea with you, I mean.  You know, I have never spoken to a young man before.  The Nuns always told us they were dreadful creatures—­but you don’t look so bad—­” and she examined her host critically.

Michael accepted the implied appreciation.

“What is Mr. Greenbank, then?”

The silver laugh rang out again, while she jumped up and peeped from the window into the courtyard.

“Samuel—­he’s only a thing!  Oh!  Uncle and Aunt would be so angry if they could see me here!  And I expect they are all in a fine fuss now to know what has happened to me!  They never saw me go through the door, and I hope they think that I’ve committed suicide out of one of the windows.  Look!” and she danced excitedly, “there is Uncle talking to the commissionaire.  Oh, what fun!”

Mr. Arranstoun peeped, too—­and saw a spare, elderly American of grim appearance in anxious confab with Alexander Armstrong.

The whole situation struck him as delightful, and he laughed gaily, while he suggested:  “You are perhaps rather a difficult charge?”

Miss Delburg resented this at once.

“What an idea!  How would you like to marry Mr. Greenbank, or stay with Aunt Jemima for four years!”

“Well, you see, I can’t contemplate it, as I am not a girl!”

Again those white teeth showed, and the violet eyes were suffused with laughter.

“No!  Of course not.  How silly I am—­but I mean, how would you care to be forced to do something you did not like?”

Michael thought of his own fate.

“By Jove!  I should hate it!”

“Well—­you can understand me!”

Then the door opened, and the butler and footman brought in the tea, eyeing their master’s guest furtively, while they maintained that superbly aloof manner of well-bred English servants.  The pause their entrance caused gave Mr. Arranstoun time to think, and an idea gradually began to unfold itself in his brain—­and unconsciously he took out, and then replaced in his breast pocket, a mauve, closely-written letter, while a frown of deep cogitation crept over his face.

Miss Delburg, for her part, was only thrilled with the sight of the very agreeable tea, and after waiting a moment to see what her preoccupied host would do when the servants left the room, hunger forced her to fall to the temptation of a particularly appetizing chocolate cake, which she surreptitiously seized, and began munching with the frank joy of a child.

“I do love them!” she sighed, “and we never were allowed them, only once a month after Moravia Cloudwater got that awful toothache, and had to have a big grinder pulled out.”