As Audrey came across the hall she gave a little start as she saw Mr. Cayley suddenly, sitting unobtrusively in a seat beneath one of the front windows, reading.  No reason why he shouldn’t be there; certainly a much cooler place than the golf-links on such a day; but somehow there was a deserted air about the house that afternoon, as if all the guests were outside, or—­perhaps the wisest place of all—­up in their bedrooms, sleeping.  Mr. Cayley, the master’s cousin, was a surprise; and, having given a little exclamation as she came suddenly upon him, she blushed, and said, “Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, I didn’t see you at first,” and he looked up from his book and smiled at her.  An attractive smile it was on that big ugly face.  “Such a gentleman, Mr. Cayley,” she thought to herself as she went on, and wondered what the master would do without him.  If this brother, for instance, had to be bundled back to Australia, it was Mr. Cayley who would do most of the bundling.

“So this is Mr. Robert,” said Audrey to herself, as she came in sight of the visitor.

She told her aunt afterwards that she would have known him anywhere for Mr. Mark’s brother, but she would have said that in any event.  Actually she was surprised.  Dapper little Mark, with his neat pointed beard and his carefully curled moustache; with his quick-darting eyes, always moving from one to the other of any company he was in, to register one more smile to his credit when he had said a good thing, one more expectant look when he was only waiting his turn to say it; he was a very different man from this rough-looking, ill-dressed colonial, staring at her so loweringly.

“I want to see Mr. Mark Ablett,” he growled.  It sounded almost like a threat.

Audrey recovered herself and smiled reassuringly at him.  She had a smile for everybody.

“Yes, sir.  He is expecting you, if you will come this way.”

“Oh!  So you know who I am, eh?”

“Mr. Robert Ablett?”

“Ay, that’s right.  So he’s expecting me, eh?  He’ll be glad to see me, eh?”

“If you will come this way, sir,” said Audrey primly.

She went to the second door on the left, and opened it.

“Mr. Robert Ab—­” she began, and then broke off.  The room was empty.  She turned to the man behind her.  “If you will sit down, sir, I will find the master.  I know he’s in, because he told me that you were coming this afternoon.”

“Oh!” He looked round the room.  “What d’you call this place, eh?”

“The office, sir.”

“The office?”

“The room where the master works, sir.”

“Works, eh?  That’s new.  Didn’t know he’d ever done a stroke of work in his life.”

“Where he writes, sir,” said Audrey, with dignity.  The fact that Mr. Mark “wrote,” though nobody knew what, was a matter of pride in the housekeeper’s room.

“Not well-dressed enough for the drawing-room, eh?”