entered. There were a few words of confused greeting, a hurried
explanation of the circumstances that led Sir Hugh to Florence;
and then Valentine looked long and steadily at the only man she
had ever cared for. He was altered; the frank, handsome face
looked worn and thin; it had a restless expression. He did not
look like a man who had found peace. Lady Charteris told him of
her last visit to Earlescourt--how his mother never ceased
speaking of him, and his father still preserved the same rigid,
unbending silence.

"I have seen your picture," said Lady Charteris. "How well you
remembered my daughter's face."

"It is one not easily forgotten," he replied; and then another
deep silence fell upon him.

"Where is Mrs. Earle?" asked Valentine. "Our visit is chiefly to
her. Pray introduce her to mamma. I know her already by
description."

"I left my wife in the garden," said Ronald; "shall we join her
there?"

They followed him into the pretty sunlit garden, where Valentine
had seen the pale, sad face.

"My wife is timid," said Ronald, "always nervous with strangers."

Dora was sitting under the shade of a large flowering tree, her
hands folded, and her eyes riveted on the distant hills; there