For a moment Lady Blanche seemed surprised at seeing Dick. She scrutinised him closely, as if she was not quite sure it was he. Then her colour heightened somewhat, and with a nod which might have embraced them both, she passed on.
"We must get back to the house," Beatrice said; "Granddad and Sir George will have returned by this time, and they will want their tea."
"Sir George is leaving you to-morrow, isn't he?" asked Dick.
"Yes," she replied, and Dick's heart grew heavy as he saw the look in her eyes. He did not know why.
"He's a great soldier, I suppose? I think I've been told so."
"The greatest and bravest man in the army," she replied eagerly. "He's simply splendid. It's not often that a soldier is a scholar, but Granddad says there are few men alive who are greater authorities on Egyptian questions."
A feeling of antagonism rose in Dick's heart against Sir George Weston, he felt angry that Beatrice should think so highly of him.
"He's a Devonshire man, isn't he?" he asked.
"Yes; he has a lovely old place down there. The house is built of grey granite. It is very, very old, and it looks as though it would last for hundreds and hundreds of years. It is situated on a wooded hillside, and at the back, above the woods, is a vast stretch of moorland. In front is a lovely park studded with old oaks."
"You describe the place with great enthusiasm." There was envy in his tones, and something more than envy.