hall, of which even the mere sight was cooling. It was a big
low-roofed, oak-beamed place, with cream-washed walls and
diamond-paned windows, blue-curtained. On the right and left
were doors leading into other living-rooms, but on the side which
faced you as you came in were windows again, looking on to a
small grass court, and from open windows to open windows such air
as there was played gently. The staircase went up in broad, low
steps along the right-hand wall, and, turning to the left, led
you along a gallery, which ran across the width of the hall, to
your bedroom. That is, if you were going to stay the night. Mr.
Robert Ablett's intentions in this matter were as yet unknown.

As Audrey came across the hall she gave a little start as she saw
Mr. Cayley suddenly, sitting unobtrusively in a seat beneath one
of the front windows, reading. No reason why he shouldn't be
there; certainly a much cooler place than the golf-links on such
a day; but somehow there was a deserted air about the house that
afternoon, as if all the guests were outside, or--perhaps the
wisest place of all--up in their bedrooms, sleeping. Mr. Cayley,
the master's cousin, was a surprise; and, having given a little
exclamation as she came suddenly upon him, she blushed, and said,
"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, I didn't see you at first," and he
looked up from his book and smiled at her. An attractive smile
it was on that big ugly face. "Such a gentleman, Mr. Cayley,"
she thought to herself as she went on, and wondered what the
master would do without him. If this brother, for instance, had
to be bundled back to Australia, it was Mr. Cayley who would do
most of the bundling.

"So this is Mr. Robert," said Audrey to herself, as she came in