but then he was English, and he had an awful
temper--hadn't he?--and----" But she stops with a little gap of
surprise, for the man himself, very worn and gaunt-looking, is walking
toward them. "Why, Honor, did you know he was coming?"

Honor turns and looks at her tranquilly.

"Did I know who was coming, dear? Aren't you just a trifle vague this
morning?"

"I'm awfully glad," the girl answers, with a curious smile; "and I
think I'll go home now. Dad is sure to want me; and---- How do you do,
Mr. Beresford?"--turning swiftly. "I'm delighted to see you back in
Ireland."

"Thanks, Miss Delorme," a deep voice answers; and Honor looks round and
sees him standing on the grass quite close to her--this grave, bearded
man who left Donaghmore four months ago, looking so very ill and worn.
He looks ill now, for that matter; but at the sight of him her heart
gives a great leap and the color comes into her face.

"An unexpected guest, I can claim no welcome," he says, looking at her
almost wistfully.

"But you are as welcome as unexpected," Honor answers, holding her hand
and smiling graciously.

He barely touches the slim white fingers; he looks away from her, as if
the sight of her beauty pained him.

Belle has disappeared; they can hear her singing as she flits between
the great tree-trunks, a dainty figure in her gay print gown.

"You have been ill again?" Honor says gently. She is feverishly
excited, but no one could imagine that from her manner. Her voice
trembles a little, but that is the only sign she gives of the
tumultuous emotion that the sight of this man has roused in her.

And she thought she had forgotten him--that if he never came to
Donaghmore it would not matter in the least. His scornful words had
hurt her cruelly; she had never forgiven them, and he knew that she had
not.

Though she had been so kind to him all those weeks that he lay hovering
between life and death he had not been deceived. He left Donaghmore
fully conscious that he was not forgiven.

But that did not trouble him. He had been strong in his resentment
then; he had judged her, and disapproved of her in his calm judicial
way, and there was an end of it.

"I've had a nasty touch of low-fever, that is all."

"And you never let us know!"

"No. Why should I? You had trouble enough with me!"

"Trouble!" the girl says passionately; and at the sudden change in her
voice he raises his head. "Do you forget it was through my fault you
w