decide how to deal with that crisis when it should
arrive.

Meanwhile, the amazing proposal itself was before him. If it were
accepted, he should be at once a comparatively rich man, with an infinity
of chances for the future; for Melrose's financial interest and influence
were immense. If not free to marry immediately, he would certainly be
free--as Melrose himself had hinted--to prepare for marriage. But could
he do the work?--could he get on with the old man?--could he endure the
life?

After luncheon Dixon, with the subdued agitation of manner which showed
the advent of yet another change in the household, came in to announce
that a motor had come from Carlisle, that Mr. Melrose did not propose to
use it himself, and hoped that Mr. Faversham would take a drive.

It was the invalid's first excursion into the outer world.

He sat breathing in great draughts of the scented summer air, feeling his
life and strength come back into him.

The rain had passed, and the fells rose clear and high above the moist
hay meadows and the fresh-leaved trees.

As they emerged upon the Keswick road he tapped the chauffeur on the
shoulder. "Do you know Green Cottage?"

"Mrs. Penfold's, sir? Certainly."

"How far is it?"

"I should say about two miles."

"Go there, please."

The two miles passed for Faversham in a double excitement he had some
difficulty in concealing; the physical excitement of change and movement,
of this reentry upon a new world, which was the old; and the mental
excitement of his own position.

At the cottage door, he dismounted slowly. The maid-servant said she
thought Mrs. Penfold was in the garden. Would the gentleman please come
in?

Faversham, leaning on his stick, made his way through the tiny hall of
the cottage, and the drawing-room door was thrown open for him. A young
lady was sitting at the farther end, who rose with a slight cry of
astonishment. It was Lydia.

Through her reception of him Faversham soon learnt what are the
privileges of the wounded, and how glad are all good women of excuses to
be kind. Lydia placed him in the best chair, in front of the best view,
ordered tea, and hovered round him with an eager benevolence. Her mother,
she said, would be in directly. Faversham, on his side, could only
secretly hope that Mrs. Penfold's walk might be prolonged.

They were not interrupted. Lydia, with concern, conjectured that Mrs.
Penfold and Susan had gone to visit a couple of maiden