ving. But I
want to see her; yes, I do really. You've made me interested in her.
I feel, too, as if something were going to happen. I am excited!'

'Well, you won't be long now,' I replied, for just then the train drew
up at South Petherwin station.

An old servant in livery approached me as we alighted. 'Captain
Luscombe, sir?' he queried in a way which suggested the old family
retainer.

'Yes,' I replied.

A few minutes later we were seated in an open carriage, while a pair of
spanking horses drew us along some typical Devonshire lanes.

'This is better than any motor-car, after all!' cried Edgecumbe, as he
looked across the richly wooded valleys towards the wild moorland
beyond. 'After all, horses belong to a countryside like this;
motor-cars don't. If ever I----' but he did not complete his sentence.
He was looking towards an old stone mansion nestling among the trees.

'That's it, that's surely it,' he cried.

'Is that Bolivick?' I asked the coachman.

'Yes, sir.'

'You might have been here before, Edgecumbe,' I said.

'No, no, I don't think I have--and yet--I don't know. It is familiar
to me in a way, and yet it isn't. But it _is_ glorious. See, the
sun's rim is almost touching the hill tops,--what colour! what infinite
beauty! Must not God be beautiful!'

The carriage dashed through a pair of great grey granite pillars, and a
minute later we were in park lands, where the trees still threw their
shade over the cattle which were lying beneath them.

'An English home,' I heard him say, 'just a typical English home. Oh,
the thought of it is lovely!'

The carriage drew up at the door of the old mansion, and getting out, I
saw Lorna Bolivick standing there.

'I am glad you've come,' and she gave a happy laugh. 'I should never
have forgiven you if you hadn't,' and she shook my hand just as
naturally as if she had known me all her life. Then she turned towards
Edgecumbe. 'And this is your friend,' she said; 'you don't know how
pleased I am to see you.'

But Edgecumbe did not speak. His eyes were riveted on her face, and
they burned like coals of fire. I saw, too, by the tremor of his lips,
how deeply moved he was.

CHAPTER XVI

LORNA BOLIVICK'S HOME

For a moment I thought that Lorna Bolivick was somewhat annoyed at the
intense and searching look which Edgecumbe gave her. Her face flushed
somewhat, and a suggestion of anger flashed from her eyes. But this
was only for a mo