at the station she had, with a kind of natural tact, struck the
proper note. She knew Mordaunt was a relation of Jim's, but she met
him without reserve or an obvious wish to please. If either were
conscious of surprise or embarrassment, Jim thought it was Mordaunt.
Presently the latter indicated a low ridge that broke the level marsh.
It rose against the background of misty hills, and a creek that caught
the light and shone wound past it to the sands. In one place, a gray
wall appeared among stunted trees.

"Langrigg," he said. "We'll arrive in a few minutes."

He blew the horn, a boy ran to open a gate, and as they climbed the
hill Jim saw a stripped cornfield, a belt of dark-green turnips, a
smooth pasture, and a hedge. Then a lawn with bright flower-borders
opened up, and on the other side a house rose from a terrace. Its
straight front was broken by a small square tower, pierced by an arch,
and old trees spread their ragged branches across the low roof. The
building was of a type not uncommon in the North of England and had
grown up about the peel tower that had been a stronghold in the
Scottish wars. There were barns and byres in the background, and it
was hard to tell if Langrigg was a well-kept farm or a country house.

The strange thing was, Jim knew it well. He felt as if he had come to
a spot he often visited; in fact, he had a puzzled feeling that he had
come home. Then he saw people on the terrace and the car stopped. He
jumped out and after helping Mrs. Winter down got something of a shock,
for as the group advanced he saw the girl he had met at the Montreal
restaurant. For a moment he forgot Mrs. Winter and fixed his eyes on
the girl. She moved with the grace he remembered, and her white dress
outlined her figure against the creeper on the wall. She was rather
tall and finely, but slenderly, proportioned, and when she looked up he
knew she was as beautiful as he had thought. Then he roused himself
and went forward with his friends.

Mordaunt presented him to Mrs. Halliday, who gave him her hand with a
gracious smile.

"I knew you when the car came up the drive. You look a Dearham," she
said. "Since Bernard is unwell, we thought we ought to come and
welcome you." Then she beckoned the others. "My daughter, Evelyn, and
my son, Dick."

The girl glanced at Jim curiously, as if puzzled, but her brother
laughed.

"This is something of a romantic surprise!" he said. "Perhaps it's
cur