cally over some passing thought, which he did
not think it necessary to communicate to his young friend.

"I talk as if I was a stranger here, do I?" he resumed. "That's exactly
what I am. Lady Lundie and I correspond on excellent terms; but we run
in different grooves, and we see each other as seldom as possible. My
story," continued the pleasant old man, with a charming frankness which
leveled all differences of age and rank between Arnold and himself,
"is not entirely unlike yours; though I _am_ old enough to be your
grandfather. I was getting my living, in my way (as a crusty old Scotch
lawyer), when my brother married again. His death, without leaving a son
by either of his wives, gave me a lift in the world, like you. Here I
am (to my own sincere regret) the present baronet. Yes, to my sincere
regret! All sorts of responsibilities which I never bargained for are
thrust on my shoulders. I am the head of the family; I am my niece's
guardian; I am compelled to appear at this lawn-party--and (between
ourselves) I am as completely out of my element as a man can be. Not a
single familiar face meets _me_ among all these fine people. Do you know
any body here?"

"I have one friend at Windygates," said Arnold. "He came here this
morning, like you. Geoffrey Delamayn."

As he made the reply, Miss Silvester appeared at the entrance to the
summer-house. A shadow of annoyance passed over her face when she saw
that the place was occupied. She vanished, unnoticed, and glided back to
the game.

Sir Patrick looked at the son of his old friend, with every appearance
of being disappointed in the young man for the first time.

"Your choice of a friend rather surprises me," he said.

Arnold artlessly accepted the words as an appeal to him for information.

"I beg your pardon, Sir--there's nothing surprising in it," he returned.
"We were school-fellows at Eton, in the old times. And I have met
Geoffrey since, when he was yachting, and when I was with my ship.
Geoffrey saved my life, Sir Patrick," he added, his voice rising, and
his eyes brightening with honest admiration of his friend. "But for
him, I should have been drowned in a boat-accident. Isn't _that_ a good
reason for his being a friend of mine?"

"It depends entirely on the value you set on your life," said Sir
Patrick.

"The value I set on my life?" repeated Arnold. "I set a high value on
it, of course!"

"In that case, Mr. Delamayn has laid you under an obligation