l the expression that could be seen
in their faces--then Sir Stephen led the way into the drawing-room.

"You've just time to dress," he said, consulting his watch; "your man
Measom has turned up, Stafford. Mr. Howard will permit me to offer him
the services of my valet--I don't trouble him much. And now I'll show
you your rooms. Like this?" he added, as he paused at the door and
looked round. "It's one of the smaller rooms; the ladies can keep it
for themselves if they like."

"Charming!" said Howard; and the word was appropriate enough to the
dainty apartment with its chaste decorations of crushed strawberry and
gold, with hangings and furniture to match; with its grand piano in
carved white wood and its series of water colours by some of the best
of the Institute men.

"I'm glad!" responded Sir Stephen. "But I mustn't keep you. We'll go
over the place after dinner--or some other time. To-night we are alone;
the party doesn't come up till to-morrow. I wanted to have you,
Stafford--and your friend--to myself before the crowd arrived."

They followed him up the broad stairs, which by low and easy steps led
up to the exquisite corridor, harmonising perfectly with the eastern
hall, on to which it looked through arches shaped and fitted in
Oriental fashion.

"Here is your room. Ah, Measom! here is Mr. Stafford, Got everything
ready for him, I hope?--and here, next door almost, is Mr. Howard's.
This is a snuggery in between--keep your books and guns and
fishing-rods in it, don't you know. Mr. Howard, you play, I think?
There's a piano, Hope you'll like the view. Full south, with nothing
between you and the lake. I'm not far off. See? Just opposite, You may
find the rooms too hot, Stafford--Mr. Howard--and we'll change 'em, of
course. Don't hurry: hope you'll find everything you want!"

He laid his hand on Stafford's shoulder and nodded at him with frank
affection, before he went, and as he closed the door they heard him say
to some one below:

"Don't serve the dinner till Mr. Stafford comes down!"

Stafford went to the window, and Howard stood in silence beside him for
a moment, then he said--Measom had left the room:

"I congratulate you, Staff! In sackcloth and ashes, I confess I thought
that kind of father only existed in women's books and emotional plays."

Stafford nodded.

"He's--he's kindness itself," he said, in a very low voice and not
turning his head. "I didn't know that he was like--this. I didn't k