oking woman, with pleasant round
face and a ceaseless flow of conversation, was chattering away to
Mr. Fentolin. By her side stood another woman who was a stranger to
Hamel--thin, still elegant, with tired, worn face, and the shadow of
something in her eyes which reminded him at once of Esther. She wore a
large picture hat and carried a little Pomeranian dog under her arm. In
the background, an insignificant-looking man with grey side-whiskers and
spectacles was beaming upon everybody. Mr. Fentolin waved his hand and
beckoned to Hamel and Esther as they somewhat hesitatingly approached.

"This is one of my fortunate mornings, you see, Esther!" he exclaimed,
smiling. "Lady Saxthorpe has brought her husband over to lunch. Lady
Saxthorpe," he added, turning to the woman at his side, "let me present
to you the son of one of the first men to realise the elusive beauty of
our coast. This is Mr. Hamel, son of Peter Hamel, R.A.--the Countess of
Saxthorpe."

Lady Saxthorpe, who had been engaged in greeting Esther, held out her
hand and smiled good-humouredly at Hamel.

"I know your father's work quite well," she declared, "and I don't
wonder that you have made a pilgrimage here. They tell me that he
painted nineteen pictures--pictures of importance, that is to say
--within this little area of ten miles. Do you paint, Mr. Hamel?"

"Not at all," Hamel answered.

"Our friend Hamel," Mr. Fentolin intervened, "woos other and sterner
muses. He fights nature in distant countries, spans her gorges with iron
bridges, stems the fury of her rivers, and carries to the boundary of
the world that little twin line of metal which brings men like ants to
the work-heaps of the universe. My dear Florence," he added, suddenly
turning to the woman at his other side, "for the moment I had forgotten.
You have not met our guest yet. Hamel, this is my sister-in-law, Mrs.
Seymour Fentolin."

She held out her hand to him, unnaturally thin and white, covered with
jewels. Again he saw something in her eyes which stirred him vaguely.

"It is so nice that you are able to spend a few days with us, Mr.
Hamel," she said quietly. "I am sorry that I have been too indisposed to
make your acquaintance earlier."

"And," Mr. Fentolin continued, "you must know my young friend here, too.
Mr. Hamel--Lord Saxthorpe."

The latter shook hands heartily with the young man.

"I knew your father quite well," he announced. "Queer thing, he used to
hang out for months