and she
spoke to him, though still in a curiously suppressed tone.

"I beg your pardon. You are welcome. I was a little startled at
first."

She rang the bell. Gomez answered it.

"Bring some fresh tea, and some sandwiches and wine," she ordered.
"Tell them in the stables to see that this gentleman's horse has every
attention."

Gomez received his orders in silence, and withdrew with darkening
face. Paul looked after him with surprise.

"Gomez does not seem particularly pleased to see me again," he
remarked. "What is the matter with the man, I wonder?"

"It is only his manner, I think," she said softly. "He was your
father's servant, was he not?"

"Yes. How did you know that?" he asked quickly. "Ah, I beg your
pardon; he told you, of course. You will find him a faithful servant."

She bowed her head, but made no reply. Indeed, Paul found it very
difficult to start a conversation of any sort with his new neighbour.
To all his remarks she returned only monosyllabic answers, looking at
him steadily all the while out of her full, dark eyes in a far-away,
wistful manner, as though she saw in his face something which carried
her thoughts into another world. It was a little uncomfortable for
Paul, and he was not sorry when Gomez reappeared, bearing a tray with
refreshments.

She handed him his tea in silence; and Paul, who would have been
ashamed to have called himself curious, but who was by this time not a
little puzzled at her manner, made one more effort at conversation.

"I think you said that you were quite strange to this part of the
country," he remarked. "We, who have lived here all our lives, are
fond of it; but I'm afraid you'll find it rather dull at first. There
is very little society."

"We do not desire any," she said hastily. "We came here--at least I
came here--for the sake of indulging in absolute seclusion. It is the
same with my step-daughter. In London she had been forced to keep late
hours, and her health has suffered. The doctor prescribed complete
rest; I, too, desired rest, so we came here. A London house agent
arranged it for us."

So there was a step-daughter who lived in London, and who went out a
great deal. The mention of her gave Paul an opportunity.

"I wonder if I have ever met your daughter in town," he said
pleasantly. "I am there a good deal, and I have rather a large circle
of acquaintances."

The implied question seemed to disconcert her. She coloured, and then
grew sud