rom Holchester House, and that I can only deliver it at a
personal interview."

Hester Dethridge returned to the cottage. Another, and a longer interval
elapsed. At the end of the time, Geoffrey himself appeared in the front
garden, with the key in his hand. Anne's heart throbbed fast as she saw
him unlock the gate, and asked herself what was to follow.

To her unutterable astonishment, Geoffrey admitted Sir Patrick without
the slightest hesitation--and, more still, he invited Blanche to leave
the carriage and come in!

"Let by-gones be by-gones," Anne heard him say to Sir Patrick. "I only
want to do the right thing. If it's the right thing for visitors to come
here, so soon after my father's death, come, and welcome. My own notion
was, when you proposed it before, that it was wrong. I am not much
versed in these things. I leave it to you."

"A visitor who brings you messages from your mother and your brother,"
Sir Patrick answered gravely, "is a person whom it is your duty to
admit, Mr. Delamayn, under any circumstances."

"And he ought to be none the less welcome," added Blanche, "when he is
accompanied by your wife's oldest and dearest friend."

Geoffrey looked, in stolid submission, from one to the other.

"I am not much versed in these things," he repeated. "I have said
already, I leave it to you."

They were by this time close under Anne's window. She showed herself.
Sir Patrick took off his hat. Blanche kissed her hand with a cry of joy,
and attempted to enter the cottage. Geoffrey stopped her--and called to
his wife to come down.

"No! no!" said Blanche. "Let me go up to her in her room."

She attempted for the second time to gain the stairs. For the second
time Geoffrey stopped her. "Don't trouble yourself," he said; "she is
coming down."

Anne joined them in the front garden. Blanche flew into her arms and
devoured her with kisses. Sir Patrick took her hand in silence. For
the first time in Anne's experience of him, the bright, resolute,
self-reliant old man was, for the moment, at a loss what to say, at a
loss what to do. His eyes, resting on her in mute sympathy and interest,
said plainly, "In your husband's presence I must not trust myself to
speak."

Geoffrey broke the silence.

"Will you go into the drawing-room?" he asked, looking with steady
attention at his wife and Blanche.

Geoffrey's voice appeared to rouse Sir Patrick. He raised his head--he
looked like himself again.

"Why go i