e! What have you done with Anthony?"

CHAPTER II

Tallente's first impressions of Jane Partington were that an exceedingly
attractive but somewhat imperious young woman had surprised him in a
most undignified position. She had come cantering down the drive on a
horse which, by comparison with the Exmoor ponies which every one rode
in those parts, had seemed gigantic, and, finding a difficulty in making
her presence known, had motioned to him with her whip. He climbed down
from the steps where he had been busy fastening up some roses, removed a
nail from his mouth and came towards her.

"How is it that I can make no one hear?" she asked. "Do you know if
Mrs. Tallente is at home?"

Tallente was in no hurry to reply. He was busy taking in a variety of
pleasant impressions. Notwithstanding the severely cut riding habit and
the hard little hat, he decided that he had never looked into a more
attractively feminine face. For some occult reason, unconnected, he was
sure, with the use of any skin food or face cream, this young woman who
had the reputation of living out of doors, winter and summer, had a
complexion which, notwithstanding its faint shade of tan, would have
passed muster for delicacy and clearness in any Mayfair drawing-room.
Her eyes were soft and brown, her hair a darker shade of the same
colour. Her mouth, for all its firmness, was soft and pleasantly
curved. Her tone, though a trifle imperative, was kindly, gracious and
full of musical quality. Her figure was moderately slim, but
indistinguishable at that moment under her long coat. She possessed a
curious air of physical well-being, the well-being of a woman who has
found and is enjoying what she seeks in life.

"Won't you tell me why I can make no one hear?" she repeated, still
good-naturedly but frowning slightly at his silence.

"Mrs. Tallente is in London," he announced. "She has taken most of the
establishment with her."

The visitor fumbled in her side pocket and produced a diminutive ivory
case. She withdrew a card and handed it to Tallente, with a glance at
his gloved hands.

"Will you give this to the butler?" she begged. "Tell him to tell his
mistress that I was sorry not to find her at home."

"The butler," Tallente explained, "has gone for the milk. He shall have
the card immediately on his return."

She looked at him for a moment and then smiled.

"Do forgive me," she said. "I believe you are Mr. Tallente?"

He drew off his glov