one of them. This is perhaps what makes him interesting. He is
unaccountable."

"He must have some position. He was very familiar with Lord
Worthington."

"Lord Worthington is a sportsman, and is familiar with all sorts of
people."

"Yes; but surely he would not let a jockey, or anybody of that
class, put his arm round his neck, as we saw Mr. Byron do."

"That is true," said Lydia, thoughtfully. "Still," she added,
clearing her brow and laughing, "I am loath to believe that he is an
invalid student."

"I will tell you what he is," said Alice suddenly. "He is companion
and keeper to the man with whom he lives. Do you recollect his
saying 'Mellish is mad'?"

"That is possible," said Lydia. "At all events we have got a topic;
and that is an important home comfort in the country."

Just then they reached the castle. Lydia lingered for a moment on
the terrace. The Gothic chimneys of the Warren Lodge stood up
against the long, crimson cloud into which the sun was sinking. She
smiled as if some quaint idea had occurred to her; raised her eyes
for a moment to the black-marble Egyptian gazing with unwavering
eyes into the sky; and followed Alice in-doors.