it. He followed Dixon through the gallery
in silence.

There was no one in the new sitting-room. But outside on some newly laid
grass, Tatham perceived the invalid on a deck chair, with a table holding
books and cigarettes beside him.

Dixon had departed. Faversham offered cigarettes.

"Thank you," said Tatham, "I have my own."

And he produced his case with a smile, handing it to Faversham.

"A drink?"

Tatham declined again. As he sat there smoking, his hat on the back of
his head, and his ruddy, good-humoured face beaming on his companion, it
did not occur to Faversham that Tatham was thereby refusing the "salt" of
an enemy.

"They'll bring some tea when Mrs. and Miss Penfold come," said Faversham.

Tatham nodded, then grinned irrepressibly.

"I say! I told Miss Penfold she'd find you in 'piggery.'"

Faversham's dark face showed a certain discomposure. Physical delicacy
had given a peculiar distinction to the gaunt black and white of his
eyes, hair, and complexion, and to the thinness of his long frame, so
that Tatham, who would have said before seeing him that he remembered
him perfectly, found himself looking at him from time to time in
surprise. As to his surroundings, Faversham appeared not only willing but
anxious to explain.

"It's a queer business," he said frankly. "I can assure I you I never
asked for anything, never wished for anything of the sort. Everything was
arranged for me to go to Keswick--to a home there--when--this happened."

"When old Melrose broke out!" Tatham threw back his head and gurgled with
laughter. "I suppose you know that nobody but yourself has ever had bite
or sup in this house for twenty years, unless it were some of the
dealers, who--they say--come occasionally. What have you done to him?
You've cast a spell on him!"

Faversham replied again that he had done nothing, and was as much puzzled
as anybody.

"My mother was afraid you would be anything but comfortable," said
Tatham. "She knows this gentleman of old. But she didn't know your powers
of soothing the savage breast! However, you have only to say the word,
and we shall be delighted to take you in for as long as you like."

"Oh, I must stay here now," said Faversham decidedly. "One couldn't be
ungrateful for what has been done. But my best thanks to Lady Tatham all
the same. I hope I may get over to see her some day."

"You must, of course. Dixon tells me there is a carriage coming--perhaps
a motor; why not!