"Thank you," said Miss Castlemaine.
"Why did you inquire?" asked Sister Margaret as they went on.
"Because something in the stranger's face seemed to be familiar to me--as though I had seen it before," replied Mary Ursula.
Meanwhile, Mr. George North, who seemed to do things rather upon impulse--or, at least, not to lose time in putting in practice any resolution he might make--had proceeded to Greylands' Rest to get the permission for sketching any particular bits of scenery he fancied, which might be owned by Mr. Castlemaine. He took the field way; the same way that he and the ladies had taken the previous night, and he was nearly at the end of his journey when he encountered Mr. Castlemaine who was coming forth from his house with Ethel Reene. Mr. North lifted his hat, and approached to accost them.
"I beg your pardon," he said to Mr. Castlemaine, bowing at the same time to Ethel, "I believe I have the honour of speaking to the Master of Greylands."
Mr. Castlemaine recognised him at once, as the young travelling artist whom he had seen the previous day at the Turk's Head; the same who had just been talked of at his breakfast-table. This Mr. George North, it turned out, was a friend of Madame Guise, or, as Madame especially put it, of her late husband's. A gentleman artist, Madame had said, for he was not dependent on his profession; he had a good patrimony, and was of good family: and Mr. Castlemaine had taken all in unsuspiciously. Apart from anything trenching on the mysteries of that certain February night and of the Friar's Keep, whatever they might be, he was the least suspicious man in the world: and it no more occurred to him to connect this young man and his appearance at Greylands with that unhappy affair, than he had connected Madame with it. Mr. Castlemaine had taken rather fancy to this young artist when at the Turk's Head: he liked the look of his bright face now, as he came up smiling: he warmed to the open, attractive manners.
George North preferred his request. He had come to Greylands the previous day in the two-horse van from Stilborough for the purpose of calling on Madame Guise; he had been struck with the pretty place and with the many charming bits of scenery it presented, fit for the pencil: some of these spots he found belonged to the Master of Greylands; would the Master of Greylands give him permission to sketch them?
And taken, it must be repeated, by the applicant's looks and words; by his winning face, his pleasing voice, his gentlemanly bearing altogether, Mr. Castlemaine gave the permission off-hand, never staying to count the cost of any after suggestions that might arise against it. Artists had come to the place before; they had stayed a week or two and departed again, leaving no traces behind: that the same would be the case with this present one, he never thought to doubt. Mr. North was somewhat different from the others, though; inasmuch as that he was known to Madame Guise (who vouched, so to say, for his being a gentleman) and also that he had gained the liking of Mr. Castlemaine.
Mr. North warmly expressed his thanks for the readily-accorded permission. Ethel had not spoken, but was blushing perpetually as she stood listening to him--and for no cause whatever, she angrily told herself. Mr. North turned to retrace his steps, and they all walked on together.
"You have been acquainted with Madame Guise and her family some time, I find," observed the Master of Greylands. "Knew them abroad."