"He was, even as a boy. I remember him at Sandhurst."
"Were you at Sandhurst?" remarked the girl, looking at her host, who did not in any way resemble a military man.
Colpster laughed in his silent fashion. "Oh, yes. I had thoughts of winning the V.C., and so tormented my father to make me a soldier. But I soon grew tired of the Army, as I had not the necessary money to keep it up. I therefore retired when my father died and have vegetated here ever since. I hope you don't find our life here too dull, Miss Carrol," and he looked anxiously towards the bright face of the girl.
"I like it," replied Patricia absently; "it is such a rest after the rush and worry of London. By the way, Mr. Colpster, I wish you would not call me Miss Carrol: it sounds so stiff."
"Patricia, then," said the Squire genially, and with a bright look in his usually sad eyes which showed that he was pleased; "it is a very charming name and suits"--he made an old-world bow--"a very charming young lady."
The girl laughed and coloured and bowed in return. Then, to turn the conversation, which was becoming too complimentary, she glanced at the vacant place opposite to that of Mara's. "Where is Mr. Dane?" she asked abruptly.
"Talk of angels and you hear their wings," said the Squire, for at that moment the door opened to admit the eldest nephew.
Theodore was tall and rather stout, with a heavy face by no means attractive. His skin was pale, and he possessed very bright blue eyes, and reddish hair, worn--as was his uncle's--rather long. His jaw was of the bull-dog order, and with this, and his bulky figure, to say nothing of the piercing look in his eyes, he appeared to be rather a formidable personage. But he was so good-natured and conversational that Patricia liked him, and thought--which was probably true--that his bark was much worse than his bite. He dressed much more carefully than did Mr. Colpster, and one noticeable point about him were his delicate white hands, which he was rather fond of using to emphasize his conversation. Patricia guessed that the man was proud of those hands, as one of his rare good points, and liked to draw attention to their perfection.
"I am sorry that I am late, Miss Carrol," said Theodore, sitting down with an alacrity surprising in so heavy a man. "I was taken up with a new manuscript which I acquired when I was in London."
"What is it about?" asked Patricia politely.