herself, and consequently always gave him two.
"I should say a little strong soup would--"

At this juncture the front door-bell rang, and a moment afterwards "Mr.
Dare" was announced.

The erect, light gray figure which had awakened the curiosity of Mrs.
Eccles came in close behind the servant. Mrs. Alwynn received a deep bow
in return for her look of astonishment; and then, with an eager
exclamation, the visitor had seized both Mr. Alwynn's hands, regardless
of the neatly folded slice of bread and butter in one of them, and was
shaking them cordially.

Mr. Alwynn looked for a moment as astonished as his wife, and the blank,
deprecating glance he cast at his visitor showed that he was at a loss.

The latter let go his hands and spread his own out with a sudden
gesture.

"Ah, you do not know me," he said, speaking rapidly; "it is twenty years
ago, and you have forgotten. You do not remember Alfred Dare, the little
boy whom you saw last in sailing costume, the little boy for whom you
cut the whistles, the son of your old friend, Henry Dare?"

"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mr. Alwynn, with a sudden flash of memory.
"Henry's other son. I remember now. It _is_ Alfred, and I remember the
whistles too. You have your mother's eyes. And, of course, you have come
to Vandon now that your poor brother--We have all been wondering when
you would turn up. My dear boy, I remember you perfectly now; but it is
a long time ago, and you have changed very much."

"Between eight years and twenty-eight there is a great step," replied
Dare, with a brilliant smile. "How could I expect that you should
remember all at once? But _you_ are not changed. I knew you the first
moment. It is the same kind, good face which I remember well."

Mr. Alwynn blushed a faint blush, which any word of praise could always
call up; and then, reminded of the presence of Mrs. Alwynn by a short
cough, which that lady always had in readiness wherewith to recall him
to a sense of duty, he turned to her and introduced Dare.

Dare made another beautiful bow; and while he accepted a cup of tea from
Mrs. Alwynn, Mr. Alwynn had time to look attentively at him with his
mild gray eyes. He was a slight, active-looking young man of middle
height, decidedly un-English in appearance and manner, with dark roving
eyes, mustaches very much twirled up, and a lean brown face, that was
exceedingly handsome in a style to which Mr. Alwynn was not accustomed.

And this was Henry