"I am rather pleased," said the visitor, drawing his chair nearer to the farmer, "that I have a chance of talking quietly to you, without the ladies being present. I wanted that opportunity."
"You have it," said Mark, briefly.
"Yes. I have it, and will try to avail myself of it. I met, as I told you, Miss Doris Brace some time since, and I was deeply impressed by her—most deeply."
"Were you?"
"Yes; and I resolved, if possible, to see her again."
Mark sat silent.
"I quite believed at the time that she was your daughter, but I have heard a strange romance since—terribly strange. May I ask, Mr. Brace, if it be true?"
"No, my lord, you may not ask me—at least, I do not mean that—you may ask what you will, but you must excuse me if I do not reply. The fact is this—if you ask as to the state of my farm, my balance at the bank, my hopes of a crop, I will tell you; but when it comes to the ladies of my family, you must really excuse me if I distinctly and plainly refuse to answer one question concerning them. I am sorry to seem rude, my lord."
But, like every one else who saw him, Lord Vivianne admired Mark Brace. He held out his white, slim hand to touch the farmer's sunburnt one.
"There is no offense, Mr. Brace," he said. "You are an honest man, and I shall think better of all other men for having seen you. If you decline any conversation on the matter, it is, of course, useless for me to offer any explanations."