But listen! Again the step sounds behind her; more distant and far less rapid than her own, but clear and unmistakable. Her heart gives a great throb, the color dies out of her cheeks, and by the time she reaches her own door she feels ready to fall from haste and fear.
The old butler is crossing the hall and he looks at her curiously.
"Have you seen anything to startle you, Miss Honor?" he says at last.
"No; I have seen nothing. Why do you ask?" Not for worlds would she own to any one the ghostly fears that shook her out there in the dusky avenue, with the sound of those following steps in her ears.
"Well," adds the butler, "one of the girls has just come in, miss, in a state of great fright, and says that she saw the old abbot himself at the corner of the avenue, watching the house for all the world as if it held some treasure of his own."
"Nonsense!" Honor says, turning suddenly pale, even in the lighted hall. "I hope these silly tales are not going to begin again. Your master will be very displeased if they come to his ears."
As she enters the sitting-room she sees that her father is not alone.
A tall man is standing on the rug before the fire, talking with much animation. It is Brian Beresford.
"I have taken the liberty of invading you without even an invitation," he says, coming forward with outstretched hand.
"And you are welcome," the girl answers softly. "Besides, your last invasion was so well timed, we may well forgive this one."