es that something was amiss. Her heart began to beat more
quickly. He forced himself to smile as he took her hand, congratulating
her on the healthiness of her appearance; and they walked slowly from
the station. Dick spoke of indifferent things, while Lucy distractedly
turned over in her mind all that could have happened. Luncheon was ready
for them, and Dick sat down with apparent gusto, praising emphatically
the good things she set before him; but he ate as little as she did. He
seemed impatient for the meal to end, but unwilling to enter upon the
subject which oppressed him. They drank their coffee.

'Shall we go for a turn in the garden?' he suggested.

'Certainly.'

After his last visit, Dick had sent down an old sundial which he had
picked up in a shop in Westminster, and Lucy took him to the place which
they had before decided needed just such an ornament. They discussed it
at some length, but then silence fell suddenly upon them, and they
walked side by side without a word. Dick slipped his arm through hers
with a caressing motion, and Lucy, unused to any tenderness, felt a sob
rise to her throat. They went in once more and stood in the
drawing-room. From the walls looked down the treasures of the house.
There was a portrait by Reynolds, and another by Hoppner, and there was
a beautiful picture of the Grand Canal by Guardi, and there was a
portrait by Goya of a General Allerton who had fought in the Peninsular
War. Dick gave them a glance, and his blood tingled with admiration. He
leaned against the fireplace.

'Your father asked me to come down and see you, Lucy. He was too worried
to come himself.'

Lucy looked at him with grave eyes, but made no reply.

'He's had some very bad luck lately. Your father is a man who prides
himself on his business ability, but he has no more knowledge of such
matters than a child. He's an imaginative man, and when some scheme
appeals to his feeling for romance, he loses all sense of proportion.'

Dick paused again. It was impossible to soften the blow, and he could
only put it bluntly.

'He's been gambling on the Stock Exchange, and he's been badly let down.
He was bulling a number of South American railways, and there's been a
panic in the market. He's lost enormously. I don't know if any
settlement can be made with his creditors, but if not he must go
bankrupt. In any case, I'm afraid Hamlyn's Purlieu must be sold.'

Lucy walked to the window and looked out. But she