"_You_, Falconer?" murmured Sir Stephen, with ashy lips.

"Yes," a.s.sented the other, drily; "yes, I am here right enough. Which is it to be--friend or foe?"

Sir Stephen stood gnawing his lip for a moment, then he turned to Stafford.

"Stafford, this--most extraordinary--this is an old friend of mine.

Falconer, this is my boy, my son Stafford!"

CHAPTER X.

"A very old friend of your father!" said Mr. Falconer, and his keen eyes looked into Stafford's as he held out his hand. Then he turned to Sir Stephen, whose face had resumed its usual serenity, and was fixed in the smile appropriate to the occasion. "Mr. Stafford Orme and I have met before to-day--"

Sir Stephen shot an enquiring glance from one to the other.

--"At the inn at the other side of the lake. My daughter, Maude, and I have been resting there for a few hours. Maude," he said to that young lady, who was standing looking on at the group generally, but more particularly, under her lids, at Stafford's tall figure; "this is a very strange meeting between old friends. Sir Stephen Orme and I haven't met for--how long ago is it, Orme?"

Sir Stephen shook his head, and raised his thick, dark brows.

"Too long for us to go back--especially in the presence of these young people, whom we are always trying to persuade that we are not old. I am delighted to see you, my dear young lady, and I am devoured by curiosity to know how it is that you are here."

"Well, we owe it to your son, Mr. Orme here, I should imagine, Sir Stephen," she replied. She had fully recovered her self-possession, and her manner and voice had all the tone of pride and indolence which Stafford had noticed when he met her at the inn. "If he had not stopped the horses, I suppose we should have either been killed or on the way to the nearest hospital. By the way, have you thanked Mr. Orme yet, father?"

"Not yet; and I shall find it difficult to do so," said Mr. Falconer.

"Thanks are poor return for one's life, Mr. Orme. I hope you were not hurt." He glanced at Stafford's usually immaculate dress-clothes, which were covered with dust on one side, and displayed a rent in the sleeve of the coat.

"Oh, that's all right, sir," returned Stafford, with all an Englishman's dread of a fuss. "They stopped short the moment I got hold of them, and I only slipped, and got up directly.

"You are not hurt, then, Stafford?" said Sir Stephen. "As I came up I thought, was afraid that you were smashed up--and I daresay I showed my fear: it's my only boy, Falconer."

He looked at his old friend meaningly, and Falconer promptly backed him up.

"Well, yes, you looked fairly startled and scared," he said. "But now, if the horses are all right, we may as well get on. We have given you quite trouble enough."

"The horses are all right, sir," said the driver. "I've managed to take up the broken trace; it was that that startled them, sir, and they'll be quiet enough now."

"Oh, but where are you going?" said Sir Stephen, with hospitable eagerness. "Were you not coming to us, to the Villa?"

"No; we were going to Keswick," said Mr. Falconer. "My daughter had a fancy for seeing the lake district, and we are making a kind of tour."

"You have no other engagement? I am delighted to hear it," said Sir Stephen. "Oh, I'll take no denial! What! Do you think I shall part with an old friend so quickly--and after such a--er--sudden and unexpected meeting! Miss Falconer, let me beg you to plead with your father for me!"

Mr. Falconer regarded Sir Stephen for a moment curiously, then looked towards his daughter. Her fine eyes rested on Stafford's face, and he could do not less than repeat his father's invitation.

"I hope you'll consent, Miss Falconer," he said. "You have no doubt been a little upset by the accident, and it is rather late to go on.

Pray stay with us!"

"Thanks. I shall be delighted." she said, with her indolent, regal air.

By this time, as they went towards the gate, some of the men who had been walking in the garden came up, and Howard's voice called out:

"Hallo, Stafford! Anything the matter?" "No; nothing whatever," said Stafford, promptly; and Sir Stephen seized the opportunity to steer the Falconers through the group. "Some old friends of mine, Mr. Howard; their carriage broke down--fortunately at our very door--this way, Falconer. Stafford, will you give Miss Maude your arm?"

"Strange, our meeting again so soon, and under such circ.u.mstances," she said. "You must have stopped those horses very pluckily. I thought that kind of thing was out of date now, and that gentlemen only called the police on such occasions. You are sure you are not hurt? I thought from your father's face you must be. He must be very fond of you to look so scared. He was as white as a ghost."

"He is fond of me, I hope and think," said Stafford. "Candidly, I did not think he would be so alarmed--but I don't know him very well yet--we have been living apart until just recently."

"Why, that is my case," she said. "My father and I were strangers until the other day, when he came from abroad--What a beautiful house! It is like a miniature palace."

She looked at the Villa and then at Stafford with renewed interest.

"I suppose your father is _the_ Sir Stephen Orme of whom one has heard so much? I did not think of it until this moment."

Stafford was giving instructions that the Falconers' carriage should be seen to, and so was spared a reply. She stood in the hall looking round with a kind of indolent admiration and surprise, and perfectly self-possessed, though the hall was rapidly filling with the men from the garden.

"You would like to go to your rooms at once," said Sir Stephen, in his serene and courtly voice. "If you should be too tired to come down again to-night I will have some dinner sent up to you--but I hope you won't be. It would be a great disappointment."

"Oh, I am not at all tired," said Miss Falconer, as she followed the housekeeper and the two demure maids up the exquisite staircase.

Sir Stephen looked after them with a bland smile, then he turned to Stafford and caught his arm.

"Not hurt, my boy?" he said, in a tone of strained anxiety.

Stafford was beginning to get tired of the question, and answered rather impatiently: "Not in the least sir--why should I be! I'll change my things and be down in five minutes!"

"Yes, yes!" Sir Stephen still eyed him with barely concealed anxiety.

"Strange coincidence, Stafford! I--I haven't seen Ralph Falconer for--for--ever so many years! And he is thrown at my very gate! And they say there is no such thing as Fate--"

"Hadn't you better go into the drawing-room, sir," Stafford reminded him. "They'll think something has happened."

"Eh? Yes, yes, of course!" said Sir Stephen, with a little start as if he had been lost in thought; but he waited until he saw Stafford walk up the stairs, without any sign of a limp, before he followed his son's advice.

The butler, who was too sharp to need any instructions, quickly served a choice little dinner for the unexpected guests, and Stafford, who had waited in the hall, accompanied them into the dining-room. Miss Falconer had changed her travelling-dress for a rich evening-frock, and the jewels Stafford had noticed were supplemented by some remarkably fine diamonds.

"I wish you had come in time for dinner!" he said, as he conducted her to her seat.

"So do I!" she returned, serenely. "We are giving a great deal of trouble; and we are keeping you from your guests. The maid who waited on me told me that you had a large house party."

"Yes," said Stafford. "It is a kind of house-warming. My father intends settling in England for some time, I think," he added. "And he has built this place."

Mr. Falconer looked up from his plate in his alert, watchful way.

"Sir Stephen's plans rather uncertain?" he said. "I remember he always used to be rather erratic. Well, if he means settling, he's made himself a very cosy nest." He looked round the magnificent room with a curious smile. "A wonderful man, your father, Mr. Orme!"

"Yes?" said Stafford, with a non-committal smile.