"I am very much indebted to you all, Mr. Graydon, for making my son so happy. He was grieved not to return to you, I know."
Still her eyes never met those of her host.
Seeing that he was practically ignored in the conversation, Lord Glengall got up awkwardly, and with a bow to the visitor, and an affectionate nod to Sylvia, took himself off.
"Ugh!" said Lady Jane to herself; "he smells of the stables! And to think of Archie Graydon coming down to associate with such bucolics!"
Mary came in a little later and was introduced. Then came Pam. The February air had blown a fitful flame into her cheeks, and when she entered the drawing-room, not knowing there was a visitor, Lady Jane's name blew the flame higher, and then extinguished it altogether.
Her father watched her curiously, as she stood looking gravely down into Lady Jane's face. The lady, who could be gracious when she liked, held Pamela's hand a minute, and there was a caress in her voice as she spoke to her.
"I can't feel," she said to Mr. Graydon, "that your girls are strangers to me. I have heard such charming things about them from my son."
"Well, indeed," said Mr. Graydon, to whom belief in the goodwill of all the world came easily, "I should hope that we need not be strangers to a Trevithick. I have never forgotten my love for Gerald, Lady Jane."
"He was devoted to you," said the widow.
No one could have supposed from Lady Jane's manner that the visit was a painful and difficult ordeal to her. Yet, when she was seated in her carriage again, and had driven out of sight of Mr. Graydon, bowing bare-headed on the doorstep, she drew a sigh of actual physical relief.