have the keys, if you
please; I have one or two things to see to, and I will not detain you
now."

She handed him the keys and accepted her dismissal gratefully, for she
was anxious to get off and see about luncheon. Then Brand proceeded to
stroll quietly, and perhaps even sadly, through the empty and resounding
rooms that had for him many memories.

It was a rambling, old-fashioned, oddly-built house, that had been added
on to by successive generations, according to their needs, without much
reference to the original design. It had come into the possession of the
Brands of Darlington by marriage: George Brand's grandfather having
married a certain Lady Mary Heaton, the last representative of an old
and famous family. And these lonely rooms that he now walked
through--remarking here and there what prominence had been given by his
mother to the many trophies of the chase that he himself had sent home
from various parts of the world--were hung chiefly with portraits, whose
costumes ranged from the stiff frill and peaked waist of Elizabeth to
the low neck and ringleted hair of Victoria. But there was in an inner
room which he entered another collection of portraits that seemed to
have a peculiar fascination for him--a series of miniatures of various
members of the Heaton and Brand families, reaching down even to himself,
for the last that was added had been taken when he was a lad, to send to
his mother, then lying dangerously ill at Cannes. There was her own
portrait, too--that of a delicate-looking woman with large, lustrous,
soft eyes and wan cheeks, who had that peculiar tenderness and sweetness
of expression that frequently accompanies consumption. He sat looking at
these various portraits a long time, wondering now and again what this
or that one may have suffered or rejoiced in; but more than all he
lingered over the last, as if to bid those beautiful tender eyes a final
farewell.

He was startled by the sound of some vehicle rattling over the gravel
outside; then he heard some one come walking through the echoing rooms.
Instantly, he scarcely knew why he shut down the lid of the case in
front of him.

"Missed the train by just a second," Lord Evelyn said, coming into the
room; "I am awfully sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Brand answered; "but I am glad you have come. I
have everything squared up in London, I think; there only remains to
settle a few things down here."

He spoke in quite a matter-of-fact way--