equally immature, I would certainly have left them to have their talk
out undisturbed. But he was not. He was older; he was even of sufficient
years for his judgment to have become thoroughly matured and his every
faculty developed. I therefore could not see why my society should be
considered an intrusion by him, so I waited. His next sentence was
addressed to me.

"I am happy," said he, "to have the pleasure of a personal introduction
to Miss Butterworth. I did not expect it. The surprise is all the more
agreeable. I only anticipated being allowed to leave this package and
letter with the maid. They are addressed to you, madam, and were left at
my house by mistake."

I could not hide my astonishment.

"I live in the next house below," said he. "The boy who brought these
from the post office was a stupid lad, and I could not induce him to
come any farther up the road. I hope you will excuse the present
messenger and believe there has been no delay."

I bowed with what must have seemed an abstracted politeness. The letter
was from New York, and, as I strongly suspected, from Mr. Gryce. Somehow
this fact created in me an unmistakable embarrassment. I put both letter
and package into my pocket and endeavored to meet the gentleman's eye
with my accustomed ease in the presence of strangers. But, strange to
say, I had no sooner done so than I saw that he was no more at his ease
than myself. He smiled, glanced at William, made an offhand remark or so
about the weather, but he could not deceive eyes sharpened by such
experience as mine. Something disturbed him, something connected with
me. It made my cheek a little hot to acknowledge this even to myself,
but it was so very evident that I began to cast about for the means of
ridding ourselves of William when that blundering youth suddenly spoke:

"I suppose he was afraid to come up the lane. Do you know, I think
you're brave to attempt it, Trohm. We haven't a very good name here."
And with a sudden, perfectly unnatural burst, he broke out into one of
his huge guffaws that so shook the old gate on which he was leaning that
I thought it would tumble down with him before our eyes.

I saw Mr. Trohm start and cast him a look in which I seemed to detect
both surprise and horror, before he turned to me and with an air of
polite deprecation anxiously said:

"I am afraid Miss Butterworth will not understand your allusions, Mr.
Knollys. I hear this is her first visit in town."