After a little time she said: "Is it not cool here? Let us go over to the
fireplace where it is warmer."

I turned to go with her, and at once saw that it was not the fire in the
fireplace which had attracted Dorothy, but quite a different sort of
flame. In short, much to my consternation, I discovered that it was
nothing less than my handsome new-found friend, Sir John Manners, toward
whom Dorothy had been glancing.

We walked over to the fireplace, and one of the fires, Sir John, moved
away. But the girl turned her face that she might see him in his new
position. The movement, I confess, looked bold to the point of brazenness;
but if the movement was bold, what shall I say of her glances and the
expression of her face? She seemed unable to take her eager eyes from the
stranger, or to think of anything but him, and after a few moments she did
not try. Soon she stopped talking entirely and did not even hear what I
was saying. I, too, became silent, and after a long pause the girl
asked:--

"Cousin, who is the gentleman with whom you were travelling?"

I was piqued by Dorothy's conduct, and answered rather curtly: "He is a
stranger. I picked him up at Derby, and we rode here together."

A pause followed, awkward in its duration.

"Did you--not--learn--his--name?" asked Dorothy, hesitatingly.

"Yes," I replied.