Among other letters which Sir Gilbert Clare found on his breakfast-table on a certain September morning, was one which caused him to wrinkle his forehead and arch his shaggy eyebrows in a way by no means usual with him. Before laying it down he read it carefully through a second time, and then, unheedful of his other correspondence, and of the small china teapot at his elbow which was always brought in by Trant, the butler, the moment his master made his appearance, he lapsed into one of those fits of absent-mindedness which, in his case, were becoming more frequent with advancing years.

Luigi, from the opposite side of the table, was watching him with furtive eyes, and wondering whether it would be possible to obtain a sly glance over the letter which had had such an unusual effect upon his "grandfather."

Could he have had his wish, he would have read as follows:

"The Shrublands, Tuesday.

"My Dear Gilbert.--Please turn to the signature before reading further and satisfy yourself that it is really I who am writing to you after all this long time; for indeed, cousin, it must be nearly, if not quite, a score of years since we met last (it was shortly after my marriage, I remember), and no communication of any kind has passed between us in the interim.

"As you may perhaps recollect, I was always afflicted with a restless and roving disposition, and since poor dear Sir Thomas\'s death (now eight years ago) I have felt no disposition to permanently settle anywhere, but have preferred to live a wandering, Bedouin kind of life, pitching my tent here, there, or anywhere, but never for very long at a time. It is a species of existence which, although it is lacking in those elements of stability so precious to the majority of my home-clinging, hearth-loving sex, has yet about it certain elements of variety and entertainment which, in my estimation, more than serve to counterbalance its shortcomings.

"Finding myself here at the Shrublands in fulfilment of a promise of long-standing, and within half-a-dozen miles of your place, it has seemed to me (old memories even now not being quite dormant within me) that I could not do otherwise than make you aware of my propinquity and, further, intimate that if you can \'put me up\' for a couple of nights--no longer--(together with my companion and maid), I shall be pleased to find myself once more under a roof which is associated in my mind with so many pleasant memories of the days that are no more.

"Your affectionate cousin,

"Louisa Pell."

Between Sir Gilbert and Lady Pell, when they were young people, there had been a something which, if it could not in strictness be termed a romantic episode, yet had in it the possibilities of one, and, had the fates proved propitious, would probably have eventuated in a way which would have changed the current of both their lives.

It was during the lifetime of Sir Gilbert\'s father and mother that Louisa Grayson, a tall, dashing, somewhat hoydenish girl of eighteen, was invited on a long visit to Withington Chase. Mr. Gilbert Clare, as he was then, who had just returned from a journey in Central America, had felt himself drawn towards his high-spirited, bright-eyed cousin, who, although few people would have called her handsome, was possessed of some singularly attractive qualities; while she, on her side, fell frankly in love with him. But it was not to be. Miss Grayson was summoned home by the dangerous illness of a relative, and her cousin let her go without putting to her the one definite question which her heart was hungering to be asked; after which quite a number of years passed before they met again. On his part, at least, it could have been nothing more than a passing fancy, seeing that within a twelvemonth of their parting, Sir Gilbert had seen, fallen in love with, and married his first wife. Whether in Lady Pell\'s case it had proved to be more than a passing fancy was a question which she alone could have answered.

"I shall be very glad to see Louisa, very glad indeed," murmured Sir Gilbert under his breath when he had read her letter for the second time, "and I take it as a favour on her part that she has offered to come to the Chase. Of course at our time of life--although I don\'t forget that she is a number of years younger than I--she cannot be so foolish as to imagine---- No, no; I will give her credit for more sense than that. She is no longer a flighty romantic schoolgirl; indeed, I remember that when I saw her last, she impressed me as having developed into quite a woman of the world. Still, a widow---- Um--um."

With that, as already related, he lapsed into one of his musing fits, which lasted till the entrance of Trant, who coughed and gazed reproachfully at his master on finding that he had not yet poured out his first cup of tea.

The first thing the Baronet did on retiring to his study after breakfast was to reply to Lady Pell\'s letter.

"My Dear Louisa," he wrote,--"Come to the Chase by all means--you ought to have come years ago--and stay as long as it suits you--the longer the better. You may rely upon receiving the heartiest of welcomes from

"Your affectionate cousin,

"Gilbert Clare."

This missive he at once despatched by a mounted groom to the Shrublands.

Now, in the course of the forenoon of the day preceding the arrival of Lady Pell\'s note, Giovanna had driven over from Maylings and had asked to see Sir Gilbert. The proceeding was such an unusual one on her part that it was not without a spice of anxiety that he joined her in the morning-room. But she at once reassured him that, as far as he was concerned, nothing serious was the matter.

"I have this morning received a letter from home," began Giovanna, "that is to say, from Catanzaro," she added by way of correcting herself, "which informs me that my grandmother (my father\'s mother), who is over ninety years of age, is dangerously ill and has expressed a strong desire to see me. Under the circumstances, Sir Gilbert, you will probably agree with me that it is my duty to hasten to her side. It will doubtless be the last opportunity I shall have of seeing her, but I did not care to set out on so long a journey without first taking your opinion in the matter."

"That was very thoughtful of you, my dear madam, very thoughtful indeed," replied the Baronet with a gratified air. "It is clearly your duty to lose no time in carrying out your venerable relative\'s wish. Is it your desire that your son should accompany you?"

"Oh dear, no, Sir Gilbert," replied Mrs. Clare hastily. "In cases where there is sickness in a house I have always found that young men are only in the way. They are not merely uncomfortable themselves but a source of discomfort to others."

"Very possibly you are right, madam. But my idea in mentioning your son was that he would be in a position to act as your travelling ............