perfumed--the captain's appearance brightened the dreary room. It was
pleasantly suggestive of a morning visit from an idle young man. He
appeared to be a little surprised to find Blanche present on the scene
of approaching conflict. Lady Lundie thought it due to herself to
explain. "My step-daughter is here in direct defiance of my entreaties
and my advice. Persons may present themselves whom it is, in my opinion,
improper she should see. Revelations will take place which no young
woman, in her position, should hear. She insists on it, Captain
Newenden--and I am obliged to submit."

The captain shrugged his shoulders, and showed his beautiful teeth.

Blanche was far too deeply interested in the coming ordeal to care
to defend herself: she looked as if she had not even heard what her
step-mother had said of her. The solicitor remained absorbed in the
interesting view of the falling rain. Lady Lundie asked after Mrs.
Glenarm. The captain, in reply, described his niece's anxiety as
something--something--something, in short, only to be indicated by
shaking his ambrosial curls and waving his jaunty cane. Mrs. Delamayn
was staying with her until her uncle returned with the news. And where
was Julius? Detained in Scotland by election business. And Lord and Lady
Holchester? Lord and Lady Holchester knew nothing about it.

There was another knock at the door. Blanche's pale face turned paler
still. Was it Arnold? Was it Anne? After a longer delay than usual, the
servant announced Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn and Mr. Moy.

Geoffrey, slowly entering first, saluted the two ladies in silence, and
noticed no one else. The London solicitor, withdrawing himself for a
moment from the absorbing prospect of the rain, pointed to the places
reserved for the new-comer and for the legal adviser whom he had brought
with him. Geoffrey seated himself, without so much as a glance round the
room. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he vacantly traced patterns on
the carpet with his clumsy oaken walking-stick. Stolid indifference
expressed itself in his lowering brow and his loosely-hanging mouth.
The loss of the race, and the circumstances accompanying it, appeared
to have made him duller than usual and heavier than usual--and that was
all.

Captain Newenden, approaching to speak to him, stopped half-way,
hesitated, thought better of it--and addressed himself to Mr. Moy.

Geoffrey's legal adviser--a Scotchman of the ruddy, ready, and convivial
type