though she made no outward fuss, knew that inwardly she was not as calm
about the man's coming as she would have wished herself to be.

He arrived about five o'clock in a gig from Taunton. Five was the
ordinary dinner hour at Belton, but it had been postponed till six on
this day, in the hope that the cousin might make his appearance at any
rate by that hour. Mr Amedroz had uttered various complaints as to the
visitor's heartlessness in not having written to name the hour of his
arrival, and was manifestly intending to make the most of the grievance
should he not present himself before six but this indulgence was cut
short by the sound of the gig wheels. Mr Amedroz and his daughter were
sitting in a small drawing-room which looked out to the front of the
house, and he, seated in his accustomed chair near the window, could
see the arrival. For a moment or two he remained quiet in his chair, as
though he would not allow so insignificant a thing as his cousin's
coming to ruffle him but he could not maintain this dignified
indifference, and before Belton was out of the gig he had shuffled out
into the hall.

Clara followed her father almost unconsciously, and soon found herself
shaking hands with a big man, over six feet high, broad in the
shoulders, large limbed, with bright quick grey eyes, a large mouth,
teeth almost too perfect and a well-formed nose, with thick short brown
hair and small whiskers which came half-way down his cheeks a decidedly
handsome man with a florid face, but still, perhaps, with something of
the promised roughness of the farmer. But a more good-humoured looking
countenance Clara felt at once that she had never beheld.

'And you are the little girl that I remember when I was a boy at Mr
Folliott's?' he said. His voice was clear, and rather loud, but it