"Seven and twenty, Lady Ogram."
"And your father is a clergyman?"
"My father is vicar of Alverholme, in Northamptonshire."
She added a few short, sharp questions, concerning his family and his education, which Dyce answered succinctly.
"Would you like to see something of Rivenoak? If so, Miss Bride will show you about."
"With pleasure," replied the young man.
"Very well. You lunch with us to-morrow. Be at the mill at eleven o'clock."
She held out her skeleton hand, and Dyce took it respectfully. Then Constance and he withdrew.
"This, as you see, is the library," said his companion, when they had passed into the adjoining room. "The books were mostly collected by Sir Spencer Ogram, father of the late baronet; he bought Rivenoak, and laid out the grounds. That is his portrait—the painter has been forgotten."
Dyce let his eyes wander, but paid little attention to what he saw. His guide was speaking in a dry, uninterested voice, she, too, seeming to have her thoughts elsewhere. They went out into the hall, looked into one or two other rooms, and began to ascend the stairs.