him I could not wait so patiently," she thought, "but I
_trust_ him."

As these thoughts were passing through her mind, she was tying up some
branches of a pink China rose which grew against the porch.

"Give me another bit of cloth and a nail, Piers," she called to her
brother.

The tap of Piers' crutches was heard in the hall as he went to do her
bidding.

As she stood in the sunshine, with her arm raised to secure the truant
branch of the trailing rose, waiting for her brother to bring the nail,
a figure cast a shadow against the porch, and, turning her head, she saw
a gentleman standing near her. Instantly she dropped the branch, and,
with a bright colour in her cheek, waited till the stranger spoke.

"Miss Falconer, I think?" he said, his eyes fastening upon her fair
young face.

"Yes," she said, simply. "Do you want to see my mother?"

"Nay," he said, "I came to see _you_. I have heard much of you; I am
your brother's friend."

Joyce looked inquiringly at her visitor, and said, with a little quiver
in her voice:

"I hope, sir, you have brought no ill news. We have had so much sorrow
of late."

"I know it, indeed," the gentleman said. "I bring no bad news of your
brother's health; he is abroad, I think."

"Yes, at Genoa; he was at Genoa when we heard last; we have not heard
from him since our father's death."

"Ah! that was a sad loss for him and for you all. What a lovely place
you have here, but very far removed from 'the world'--the world where
you would shine as a bright star of beauty."

This broad flattery was received very differently from what the speaker
expected. Joyce's face underwent an instant change, as she said:

"I think, sir, if you please, I must ask you to excuse me, for I have
some things which are needing my attention this morning; perhaps,"
fearing she might seem deficient in courtesy, "you would like to rest a
little while."

"You are very kind, fair lady; I will accept your offer, I shall be glad
to rest. What a noble hall!" he exclaimed, as he stepped across the
threshold, where Piers was leaning against the old oak table, his
crutches under his arm.

"Piers," Joyce said, "this gentleman wishes to rest; will you ask Sarah
to fetch him some refreshment?" She was thus dismissing the guest to the
care of her brother, glad to escape from his prolonged and embarrassing
scrutiny of her face, when Lord Maythorne said:

"Pardon me, I want to speak to you on a serious matter.