"Go away, Milly!" he said, hoarsely. "I'm a savage to frighten you so!
Leave me; I shall be better alone."

And Mildred, not knowing what else to do, went.

Next morning, hours before Lady Kingsland was out of bed, Lady
Kingsland's son was galloping over the breezy hills and golden downs.
An hour's hard run, and he made straight for Hunsden Hall.

Miss Hunsden was taking a constitutional up and down the terrace
overlooking the sea, with three big dogs. She turned round at Sir
Everard's approach and greeted him quite cordially.

"Papa is so much better this morning," she said, "that he is coming
down to breakfast. He is subject to these attacks, and they never last
long. Any exciting news overthrows him altogether."

"That letter contained exciting news, then?" Sir Everard could not help
saying.

"I presume so--I did not read it. How placid the sea looks this
morning, aglitter in the sunlight. And yet I have been in the middle
of the Atlantic when the waves ran mountains high."

"You are quite a heroine, Miss Hunsden, and a wonderful traveler for a
seventeen-year-old young lady. You see, I know your age; but at
seventeen a young lady does not mind, I believe. How long have you
been in England this time?"