stood a little apart, silent for a moment, struggling against
the overwhelming suggestions of the situation. Even his mother did not
belong here; she had her own home. Perhaps it would be found that no
woman for whom he cared could ever have a right in this lovely house.
When these guests had gone he would shut up the place forever,
unless----. But possibilities of delight seemed very vague to Stephen as
he stood there in his home unlighted by Katie's presence. All at once he
felt a long keen ray from Sir Temple's eyes upon his face. That
gentleman had a fondness for making out his own narratives of people and
things; he preferred Mss. to print, that is, the Mss. of the histories
he found written on the faces of those about him, which, although
sometimes difficult to decipher, had the charm of novelty, and often
that of not being decipherable by the multitude. Stephen immediately
turned his glance upon Sir Temple.

"You are tired," he said with decision, "and Lady Dacre must be quite
exhausted, animated as she looks. But I see that my mother is already
leading her away. Let me show you your rooms."

Sir Temple's eyes had fallen, and with a bow and a half smile upon his
lips, he walked beside his host in silence.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE HOSTESS.

The second morning of the visit was delightful. Madam Archdale had taken
Lady Dacre to the cupola, and the view that met their eyes would have
more admiration from people more travelled than these. On the east was
the sea, looking in the early sunshine like a great flashing crescent of
silver laid with both its arcs upon the earth. Down to it wandered the
creek winding by the grounds beneath the watchers, turned out of its
straight course, now to lave the foot of some large tree that in return
spread a circle of shade to cool its waters before they passed out under
the hot sun again; now to creep through some field, perhaps of daises,
to send its freshness through all their roots and renew their courage in
the contest with the farmers, so that the more they were cut down, the
more they flourished, for the sun, and the stream, the summer air, and
the soil, all were upon their side. Shadows fell upon the water from the
bridge across the road over which the lumbering carts went sometimes,
and the heavy carriages still more seldom. On the other hand, looking up
the stream, were the hills from among which this little river slipped
out rippling along with its musical undertone, as