For the moment he was almost roused to a display of interest. A faint
smile lighted his face, and his cold, handsome eyes slightly brightened.

Lady Theobald sat bolt upright.

"That is Miss Bassett's niece, from America," she said. "Do I understand
you know her?"

Capt. Barold turned to confront her, evidently annoyed at having allowed
a surprise to get the better of him. All expression died out of his face.

"I travelled with her from Framwich to Stamford," he said. "I suppose we
should have reached Slowbridge together, but that I dropped off at
Stamford to get a newspaper, and the train left me behind."

"O grandmamma!" exclaimed Lucia, who had turned to look, "how very pretty
she is!"

Miss Octavia certainly was amazingly so this morning. She was standing by
a rosebush again, and was dressed in a cashmere morning-robe of the
finest texture and the faintest pink: it had a Watteau plait down the
back, _jabot_ of lace down the front, and the close, high frills of lace
around the throat which seemed to be a weakness with her. Her hair was
dressed high upon her head, and showed to advantage her little ears and
as much of her slim white neck as the frills did not conceal.

But Lady Theobald did not share Lucia's enthusiasm.

"She looks like an actress," she said. "If the trees were painted canvas
and the roses artificial, one might have some patience with her. That