oiled your sport."

He did not answer at once. He, in his turn, was looking at her. In her
tailor-made gown, short and fashionably cut, her silk stockings and
high-heeled shoes, she certainly seemed far indeed removed from any of
the women of those parts. Her dark hair was arranged after a fashion
that was strange to him. Her delicately pale skin, her deep grey eyes,
and unusually scarlet lips were all indications of her foreign
extraction. He looked at her long and searchingly. This was the girl,
then, whom his brother was hoping to marry.

"You are not English," he remarked, a little abruptly.

She shook her head.

"My father was a Portuguese," she said, "and my mother French. I was
born in England, though. You, I suppose, have lived here all your life?"

"All my life," he repeated. "We villagers, you see, have not much
opportunity for travel."

"But I am not sure," she said, looking at him a little doubtfully,
"that you are a villager."

"I can assure you," he answered, "that there is no doubt whatever about
it. Can you see out yonder a little house on the island there?"

She followed his outstretched finger.

"Of course I can," she answered. "Is that your home?"

He nodded.

"I am there most of my time," he answered.

"It looks charming," she said, a little doubtfully, "but isn't it
lonely?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps," he answered. "I am only ten minutes' sail from the mainland,
though."

She looked again at the house, long and low, with its plaster walls
bare of any creeping thing.

"It must be rather fascinating," she admitted, "to live upon an island.
Are you married?"

"No!" he answered.

"Do you mean that you live quite alone?" she asked.

He smiled down upon her as one might smile at an inquisitive child. "I
have a ser--some one to look after me," he said. "Except for that I am
quite alone. I am going to set you ashore here. You see those telegraph
posts? That is the road which leads direct to the Hall."

She was still looking at the island, watching the waves break against a
little stretch of pebbly beach.

"I should like very much," she said, "to see that house. Can you not
take me out there?"

He shook his head.

"We could not get so far in this punt," he said, "and my sailing boat
is up at the village quay, more than a mile away."

She frowned a little. She was not used to having any request of hers
disregarded.

"Could we not go to the village," she asked, "a