-laughing--"not in the same railway compartment."

Molly nodded sagely.

"I believe I know whom you mean. Was he a lean, brown, grim-looking
individual, with the kind of eyes that almost make you jump when they
look at you suddenly?"

"That certainly describes them," admitted Sara, smiling faintly.

"Then it was the Hermit of Far End," announced Molly.

"The Hermit of Far End?"

"Yes. He's a queer, silent man who lives all by himself at a house built
almost on the edge of Monk's Cliff--you must have seen it as you drove
up?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Sara, with sudden enlightenment. "Then his name is
Trent. The cabman presented me with that information," she added, in
answer to Molly's look of surprise.

"Yes--Garth Trent. It's rather an odd name--sounds like a railway
collision, doesn't it? But it suits him somehow"--reflectively.

"Have you met him?" prompted Sara. It was odd how definite an interest
her brief encounter with him had aroused in her.

"Yes--once. He treated me"--giggling delightedly--"rather as if I
_wasn't there_! At least"--reminiscently--"he tried to."

"It doesn't sound as though he had succeeded?" suggested Sara, amused.

Molly looked at her solemnly.

"He told some one afterwards--Miles Herrick, the only man he ever speaks
to, I think, without compulsion--that I was 'the Delilah type of woman,
and ought to have been strangled at birth.'"

"He must be a charming person," commented Sara ironically.

"Oh, he's a woman-hater--in fact, I believe he has a grudge against the
world in general, but woman in particular. I expect"--shrewdly--"he's
been crossed in love."

At this moment Selwyn re-entered the room, his grave face clearing a
little as he caught sight of his daughter.

"Hullo, Molly mine! Got back, then?" he said, smiling. "Have you made
your peace with Miss Tennant, you scatterbrained young woman?"

"It's a hereditary taint, Dad--don't blame _me_!" retorted Molly with
lazy impudence, pulling his head down and kissing him on the top of his
ruffled hair.

Selwyn grinned.

"I pass," he submitted. "And who is it that's been crossed in love?"

"The Hermit of Far End."

"Oh"--turning to Sara--"so you have been discussing our local enigma?"

"Yes. I fancy I must have travelled down with him from Oldhampton. He
seemed rather a boorish individual."

"He would be. He doesn't like women."

"Monk's Cliff would appear to be an appropriate habitation for him,
then," commented Sara tart