is room. He found
his clothes carefully laid out, a bright fire burning, and a bath-room
leading from his bedroom. He dressed in somewhat leisurely fashion, and
the dinner-gong rang as he descended the stairs. He could hear Lady
Hilda's voice talking on the telephone, and made his way to her little
room. She had just laid down the receiver.

"It seems," she said, "that you and I are the only people who appreciate
the country at this time of the year. I have just been talking to Flo.
She declares that nothing in the world would tempt her down here. She is
convinced that all the trees are dropping with damp, and that the mud is
inches deep. She won't believe a single word about the sunshine."

"She isn't coming, then?"

Lady Hilda shook her head.

"Fred is our last hope as a chaperon," she remarked carelessly, as she
took his arm. "I expect he'll turn up later."

Dinner--which, as John observed when they entered the room, was laid
only for two--was served at a small, round table drawn pleasantly up to
the fire. John, who had never admired his hostess more, put all
disquieting thoughts behind him and thoroughly enjoyed the dainty meal.
The pleasant warmth of the room, the excellent champagne, and Lady
Hilda's amusing conversation, unlocked his tongue. He talked much more
freely than usual of his life in Cumberland, of the various half-formed
plans which he had made as to the spending of his unexpected fortune, of
the new pleasure he found in motoring, of his almost pathetic efforts
to understand and appreciate the town life which at heart he hated. A
clever listener, like most good talkers, Lady Hilda frequently
encouraged him with a sympathetic word or two.

They were sitting over their coffee and liqueurs in two great easy
chairs drawn up to the fire, when John glanced at the clock with a
little start.

"Why, it's nearly ten o'clock!" he exclaimed. "What on earth can have
become of your brother?"

Almost as he spoke the telephone-bell rang. It stood on a little table
behind him. Lady Hilda, who was leaning back in her chair in an attitude
of luxurious repose, pointed lazily to it.

"Answer it for me, there's a dear man," she begged.

John took up the receiver. He recognized the voice at once--it was Lady
Hilda's brother who spoke.

"I say, is Lady Hilda there?" he asked.

"Yes, where are you?" John replied. "I am John Strangewey. We have been
expecting you all the evening."

"Expecting me?" was the reply