"No!" Pembroke replied sharply. "She has gone to the House on the Dunes and her brother has driven over to fetch her."
"Ah! pardon," exclaimed Monsieur de Boisdhyver; "I did not know... But it is cold for me, Monsieur Pembroke; I seek the fire."
Tom did not reply. The Marquis went inside, and presently Tom could see him standing at the window, the marine glass in his hands, sweeping the countryside.
Pembroke passed an anxious morning. Ten o'clock came; half-past; eleven struck. Nancy had not appeared, or was there a sign of Dan. Unable to be patient longer, he set out on the Port Road to meet his friend.
CHAPTER VIII
GREEN LIGHTS
The smoke was curling from the chimneys of the House on the Dunes as Dan drove up the long marsh road from the beach. He had half convinced himself that Nancy would be there, and he hoped that she herself would answer his knock. When at length the door was opened it was not by Nancy nor by Mrs. Meath, but by a stranger whom he had never seen before.
"Yes?" a pleasant voice questioned, but giving an accent to the monosyllable that made Dan think instantly of France.
He found himself facing a charming woman, her bright blue eyes looking into his with a smile that instantly attracted him. She was well-dressed, with a different air from the women he knew. And she was undeniably pretty—of that Dan was convinced, and the conviction overwhelmed him with shyness. He stood awkward and ill-at-ease; for the moment forgetting his errand. "I suppose," he stammered, "—I beg your pardon—but I suppose you are Mrs. Heath's new boarder,—Mrs. Fountain?"