"Now, that is Mr. Veath, isn't it?" demanded his fair companion.
"Yes; do you think we should be mistaken for each other?"
"Oh, dear, no, now that I know you apart. You are utterly unlike, except in height. How broad he is! Hasn't he a wonderful back?" she cried, admiring the tall, straight figure of the walker.
"He got that on the farm."
"It is worth a farm to have shoulders like his, I should say. You must introduce Mr. Veath to me."
Hugh looked at the moon very thoughtfully for a few moments and then, as if remembering, said that he would be happy to do so, and was sure that Veath would be even happier.
At this moment the tall, lank form of Lord Huntingford approached. He was peering intently at the people in the chairs as he passed them, plainly searching for some one.
"There is Lord Huntingford looking for you," said Hugh, rising. He saw a trace of annoyance in her face as she also arose. "I overheard him telling the captain that Lady Huntingford--your mother--plays a miserable game of crib."
She started and turned sharply upon him.
"My mother, Mr. Ridge?" she said slowly.