eyes gazing into his. Mrs. Adair called to
Ethne, who stood by Captain Willoughby, and came down the bank to them.

"I noticed you cross the lawn from the drawing-room window," she said.

"Yes?" answered Ethne, and she said no more. Mrs. Adair, however, did
not move away, and an awkward pause followed. Ethne was forced to give
in.

"I was talking to Captain Willoughby," and she turned to him. "You do
not know Mrs. Adair, I think?"

"No," he replied, as he raised his hat. "But I know Mrs. Adair very well
by name. I know friends of yours, Mrs. Adair--Durrance, for instance;
and of course I knew--"

A glance from Ethne brought him abruptly to a stop. He began vigorously
to push the nose of his boat from the sand.

"Of course, what?" asked Mrs. Adair, with a smile.

"Of course I knew of you, Mrs. Adair."

Mrs. Adair was quite clear that this was not what Willoughby had been on
the point of saying when Ethne turned her eyes quietly upon him and cut
him short. He was on the point of adding another name. "Captain
Willoughby," she repeated to herself. Then she said:--

"You belong to Colonel Durrance's regiment, perhaps?"

"No, I belong to the North Surrey," he answered.

"Ah! Mr. Feversham's old regiment," said Mrs. Adair, pleasantly. Captain
Willoughby had fallen into her little trap with a guilelessness which
provoked in her a desire for a closer acquaintanceship. Whatever
Willoughby knew it would be easy to extract. Ethne, however, had
disconcerting ways which at times left Mrs. Adair at a loss. She looked
now straight into Mrs. Adair's eyes and said calmly:--

"Captain Willoughby and I have been talking of Mr. Feversham." At the
same time she held out her hand to the captain. "Good-bye," she said.

Mrs. Adair hastily interrupted.

"Colonel Durrance has gone home, but he dines with us to-night. I came
out to tell you that, but I am glad that I came, for it gives me the
opportunity to ask your friend to lunch with us if he will."

Captain Willoughby, who already had one leg over the bows of his boat,
withdrew it with alacrity.

"It's awfully good of you, Mrs. Adair," he began.

"It is very kind indeed," Ethne continued, "but Captain Willoughby has
reminded me that his leave is very short, and we have no right to detain
him. Good-bye."

Captain Willoughby gazed with a vain appeal upon Miss Eustace. He had
travelled all night from London, he had made the scantiest breakfast at
Kingsbridge, and the notion