Dare's second son, the son by his French wife, who
had been brought up abroad, of whom no one had ever heard or cared to
hear, who had now succeeded, by his half-brother's sudden death, to
Vandon, a property adjoining Slumberleigh.

The eager foreign face was becoming familiar to Mr. Alwynn. Dare was
like his mother; but he sat exactly as Mr. Alwynn had seen his father
sit many a time in that very chair. The attitude was the same. Ah, but
that flourish of the brown hands! How unlike anything Henry would have
done! And those sudden movements! He was roused by Dare turning quickly
to him again.

"I am telling Mrs. Alwynn of my journey here," he began; "of how I miss
my train; of how I miss my carriage, sent to meet me from the inn; of
how I walk on foot up the long hills; and when I get there they think I
am no longer coming. I arrived only last night at Vandon. To-day I walk
over to see my old friend at Slumberleigh."

Dare leaned forward, laying the tips of his fingers lightly against his
breast.

"You seem to have had a good deal of walking," said Mr. Alwynn, rather
taken aback, but anxious to be cordial; "but, at any rate, you will not
walk back. You must stay the night, now you are here; mustn't he,
Fanny?"

Dare was delighted--beaming. Then his face became overcast. His eyebrows
went up. He shook his head. Mr. and Mrs. Alwynn were most kind, but--he
became more and more dejected--a bag, a simple valise--

It could be sent for.

Ah! Mr. Alwynn was too good. He revived again. He showed his even white
teeth. He was about to resume his tea, when suddenly a tall white figure
came lightly in through the open French window, and a clear voice began:

"Oh, Uncle John, there is such a heathen of a black poodle making
excavations in the flower-beds! Do--"

Ruth stopped suddenly as her eyes fell upon the stranger. Dare rose
instinctively.

"This is Mr. Dare, Ruth," said Mr. Alwynn. "He has just arrived at
Vandon."

Ruth bowed. Dare surpassed himself, and was silent. All his smiles and
flow of small-talk had suddenly deserted him. He began patting his dog,
which had followed Ruth in-doors, and a moment of constraint fell upon
the little party.

"She is shy," said Dare to himself. "She is adorably shy."

Ruth's quiet, self-possessed voice dispelled that pleasing illusion.

"I have had a very exhausting afternoon with Mrs. Eccles, Aunt Fanny,
and I have come to you for a cup of tea before I go back to Atherstone.