So they set forth together; and, little by little, Piers grew
remarkably talkative. Miss Derwent mentioned his father, declared an
interest in Jerome Otway, and this was a subject on which Piers
could always discourse to friendly hearers. This evening he did so
with exceptional fervour, abounded in reminiscences, rose at moments
to enthusiasm. His companions were impressed; to Irene it was an
unexpected revelation of character. She had imagined young Otway dry
and rather conventional, perhaps conceited; she found him
impassioned and an idealist, full of hero-worship, devoted to his
father's name and fame.

"And he lives all the year round in that out-of-the-way place?" she
asked. "I must make a pilgrimage to Hawes. Would he be annoyed? I
could tell him about his old friends at Helsingfors----"

"He would be delighted to see you!" cried Piers, his face glowing.
"Let me know before--let me write----"

"Is he quite alone?"

"No, his wife--my stepmother--is living."

Irene's quick perception interpreted the change of note.

"It would really be very interesting--if I can manage to get so
far," she said, less impulsively.

They walked the length of the great avenue at Nonsuch, and back
again in the golden light of the west. Piers Otway disregarded the
beauty of earth and sky, he had eyes for nothing but the face and