wn beside him on the cushioned bench, dropping service books,
handkerchief, and violets, in the extremity of her gentle and
apologetic distress.--"It never occurred to me that you might like to
come down. The Newlands people came over to church, and I brought Mary
and the two boys back. Godfrey is over from Eton for the Sunday, and
little Dick has had a cold and has not gone back to school yet. What
can we do? It would be lovely to have you, and yet I don't quite know
how I can send them away again."

"But why on earth should they be sent away?" Richard said, touched and
amused by her earnestness. "Mary's always a dear, And I've been
thinking lately I shouldn't mind seeing something of that younger boy.
He is my godson, isn't he? And Knott tells me he is curiously like you
and Uncle Roger. You see it's about time to select an heir-apparent for
Brockhurst. Luckily I've a free hand. My life's the last in the
entail."

Then, looking at him, Lady Calmady's lips trembled a little. Health had
returned and with it his former good looks, but matured, spiritualised,
as it seemed to her just now. The livid line of the scar had died out
too, and was nearly gone. And all this, taken in connection with his
words just uttered, affected her to so great and poignant a love, so
great and poignant a fear of losing him, that she dared not trust
herself to make any comment on those same words lest the flood-gates of
emotion should be opened and she should lose her self-control.

"Very well, Dickie," she said, bowing her head.--Then she added
quickly, with a little gasp of renewed distress and apology:--"But--but,
oh! dear me, Honoria is here too!"

Whereat Richard laughed outright. He could not help it, she was so
vastly engaging in her distress.

"All right," he said, "I am equal to accepting Honoria St. Quentin into
the bargain. In short, mother dear, I take over the lot, and if anybody
else turns up between now and two o'clock I'll take them over as
well.--Why, why, you dear sweet, don't look so scared! There's nothing
to trouble about. I'm not too good to live, never fear. On the
contrary, I am prepared to do quite a fine amount of living--only on
new and more modest lines perhaps. But we won't talk about that just
yet, please. We'll wait to give it a name until we're a little more
sure how it promises to work out."

CHAPTER VII

WHEREIN TWO ENEMIES ARE SEEN TO CRY QUITS

Godfrey Ormiston scudded along the terrace, pa