She said, gently:
“This is a surprise, Mr. Varian, meeting you here among the picturesque ruins of your old home.”
“Yes,” he answered, huskily; and she saw that he also had received a great shock and was struggling for calmness.
She continued, trying to place him at his ease by saying:
“When our driver told us this morning to whom these picturesque ruins belonged, we were quite surprised, and took a fancy to explore them. I hope we are not intruding. Of course we were not aware that any member of the family was in the neighborhood.”
“There is no intrusion. I will take pleasure in showing you around, Madame Ray,” he answered, in that deep musical voice that so charmed every hearer; adding: “My cousin and I only arrived last evening, and our stay will be short, only long enough to make arrangements for rebuilding Love’s Retreat.”
“Ah!” she said, and the thought came to her that perhaps he was about to marry.
Perhaps he read the thought, for he flushed slightly as he added:
“My mother wishes it, as she is very fond of Lake Weir, and anxious to return to her old home. Fred and I are stopping at Weir Park Hotel. Have you been long in this neighborhood?”
“Yes, for several months. You see, it is my home now. I inherited a little estate—Lodge Delight—from a deceased great-aunt.”