He bowed low as she entered through the
open French window looking as a Georgian or Cashmerian houri might have
looked, he thought, if clad in the robes of civilisation. Harriet bowed
in return, and said timidly,

“I am so sorry that Madame Gobelli is not here to receive you, but
she will not keep you waiting more than a few minutes, I am sure. She
particularly said that she would not be later than five o’clock.”

“She has left a very charming substitute in her place,” replied
Pennell, with another bow. “I believe you have come to see the china,” continued Harriet, “I do
not know much about it myself, but Miss Wynward will be here in a
minute, and she knows the name of every piece, and where it came from!”

“That will be eminently satisfactory,” rejoined Anthony Pennell, “but
I happen to be a connoisseur in such things myself. I have one or two
charming bits of old Sèvres and Majolica in my chambers, which I think
the Baroness would like to see if she will honour me with a visit
to my little place. A lonely bachelor like myself must take up some
hobby, you know, to fill his life, and mine happens to be china. Madame
Gobelli appears to have some lovely Chelsea there. I would like to
steal one or two of those groups on the cabinet. Will you hold the door
open for me, whilst I run away with them?”

At this sally, Harriet laughed, and Mr. Pennell thought she looked even
handsomer when she laughed than when she was pensive. “Here is the tea!” she cried nervously, as Miss Wynward appeared with
the tray. “O! Miss Wynward, surely Madame cannot be much longer now! Have you looked down the road to see if she is coming?”

“The carriage has just turned into the stable yard,” replied Miss
Wynward, and in another minute, the doorway was filled with the ample
proportions of the Baroness. “’Olloa! Mr. Pennell, and so you’ve stolen a march upon me!” was her
first greeting, “’ow are you?” extending her enormous hand, “’ave you
been looking at the china? Wait till I’ve ’ad my tea; I’ll show you one
or two bits that’ll make your mouth water! It’s my ’obby! I used to
save my pocket money when I was a little gal to buy china. I remember
my grandfather, the Dook of--but there, I ’aven’t known you long enough
to let you into family secrets. Let’s ’ave our tea and talk afterwards! I ’ope ’Arriet ’as entertained you well!”

“This young lady--” commenced Anthony Pennell, interrogatively. “To be sure, Miss ’Arriet Brandt! ’Asn’t she introduced ’erself to you? She’s like a daughter of the ’ouse to us! We look upon ’er as one of
our own, Gustave and me! Miss Brandt from Jamaica! And she knew your
cousin, Captain Pullen, too, at Heyst, we all did, and we’re dying to
’ear what ’as become of ’im, for ’e’s never shown ’is face at the Red
’Ouse!”

The murder was out now, and Harriet waited tremblingly for the result! What did Mr. Pennell know? What would he say? But Mr. Pennell said nothing--he was too much startled to speak. _This_, Harriet Brandt--this lovely girl, the quadroon of whom both
Doctor Phillips and Mrs. Pullen had spoken so disparagingly?--of whom
they had said that she was not fit to be the wife of any decent man? Oh! they must be fools and blind--or he was dreaming! The Baroness was
not slow to see the look upon his face and to interpret it rightly. “Are you surprised? You needn’t look so incredulous! I give you my word
that this is ’Arriet Brandt--the same young lady that knew Mrs. Pullen
and her brother-in-law and Miss Leyton over at Heyst. What sort of a
character ’ave they been giving ’er be’ind ’er back?”

“Indeed, I assure you, Madame--” commenced Mr. Pennell, deprecatingly. “You needn’t take the trouble to tell any tarradiddles about it! I can
see it in your face! I didn’t think much of that cousin of yours from
the beginning; ’e’s got a shifty sort of look, and as for that cold
bit of goods, Miss Leyton, well, all I say is, God ’elp the man that
marries ’er, for she’s enough to freeze the sun himself! But I liked
Mrs. Pullen well enough, and I was sorry to ’ear that she ’ad lost ’er
baby, for she was quite wrapt up in it! But I daresay she’ll soon ’ave
another!”

Without feeling it incumbent on him to enter into an argument as to the
probability of the Baroness’s last suggestion, Anthony Pennell was glad
of the digression, as it gave him an opportunity of slurring over the
dangerous subject of Ralph Pullen’s character. “The loss of her child was a very great blow to my poor cousin,” he
replied, “and she is still suffering from it, bitterly. Else, I have no
doubt that you would have seen something of her--and the others,” he
added in a lower tone. After a slight interval, he ventured to raise
his eyes and see how the girl opposite to him had taken what was said,
but it did not appear to have made much impression on her--she was, on
the contrary, gazing at him with that magnetic glance of hers as though
she wanted to read into his very soul. “Don’t go and say that I want to see ’em,” said the Baroness as, having
devoured enough cake and bread and butter to feed an ordinary person
for a day, she rose and led the way into another room. “I don’t want to
see anybody at the Red ’Ouse that doesn’t want to come, and I ’aven’t
expected the ladies. But as for Captain Pullen, ’oo made an engagement
to follow our party to Brussels, and then never took the trouble to
write a line to excuse ’imself for breaking ’is word, why, I say ’e’s a
jerry sneak, and you may tell ’im so if you like! _We_ didn’t want ’im. ’E proposed to come ’imself, and I engaged ’is room and everything, and
then ’e skedaddled without a word, and I call it beastly be’aviour. You mustn’t mind my plain speaking, Mr. Pennell. I always say what I
think! And I would like to break my stick over Captain Pullen’s back
and that’s the truth.”

They were walking along the passage now, on their way to the Baron’s
library--the Baroness in front with her hand leaning heavily on
Pennell’s shoulder, and Harriet lingering a little behind. Anthony
Pennell pondered awhile before he replied. Was this the time to
announce Ralph’s intended marriage. How would the girl behind them take
it? He turned slightly and looked at her face as the thought passed through
his mind. Somehow the eyes that met his reassured him. He began to
think it must be a mistake--that she did not care for Ralph as much as
Mrs. Pullen had supposed--that she was only offended perhaps (as her
hostess evidently was) by the curt and uncivil manner in which he had
treated them both. So he replied,

“I have not the slightest excuse to make for my cousin’s conduct,
Madame Gobelli. It appears to me that he has treated you with very
scant civility, and he ought to be ashamed of himself. But as you know,
his little niece’s death was very sudden and unexpected, and the least
he could do was to escort his sister-in-law and Miss Leyton back to
England, and since then----”

“Well! and what since then?” demanded the Baroness, sharply.