, Drake--I suppose I
may call you Drake?" she said, holding out her hand again to him.

"You shall call me by any name that pleases you," he said, smiling at
her, and speaking very gently, for she was still in mourning, and looked
very fragile and petite.

"Thanks. And yet I am not a little nervous. I don't know how you'll
quite take the alterations I have made, whether you will think I have
been too presumptuous. I shall watch your face with an anxious eye when
I take you over the place presently."

"My only feeling is one of intense gratitude," he said; "and I can't
express my thanks and surprise that you should have taken so much
trouble. I had an idea that the place was all right, that what was good
enough for my uncle----"

She winced slightly, but smiled bravely.

"No, Drake; he was an old man, and came here but seldom; you are young,
and, I hope, will spend a great deal of time here. After all, it is your
real English home."

He nodded, but not very assentingly.

"I don't know," he said, rather moodily. "I am rather a restless mortal,
and find it difficult to settle in any one place."

"Have you been well?" she asked, as she saw his face plainly, for he had
turned to the window.

"Oh, yes; quite," he replied.

She looked at him rather doubtfully.

"You are thinner, and----"

"Older," he said, with a smile.

"I was not going to say that; but I was going to say that you looked as
if you had not been sparing yourself lately."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I had rather a rough time of it in Africa--and a touch of fever. It
always leaves its mark, you know."

She nodded as if she accepted the explanation; but she was not
satisfied. A touch of fever does not leave behind the expression of
weariness which brooded in his eyes.

"If you are not too tired, will you come round with me?" she said.
"There's an opportunity now, for all the people are out riding or
driving, and we shall be more free than we shall be when they come
bustling in."

"Certainly," he said, opening the door for her. "I suppose you have
filled the house? Is it a large party?"

"I am afraid it is," she said, apologetically; "but the house is not
quite full, for some of the people who are coming to the dance to-morrow
will have to stay the night. By the way, I asked you if there was any
one to whom you would like me to send a card, but you did not reply."

"Didn't I? I humbly beg your pardon, countess! No, there was no one."