"They'll bring some tea when Mrs. and Miss Penfold come," said Faversham.
Tatham nodded, then grinned irrepressibly.
"I say! I told Miss Penfold she'd find you in 'piggery.'"
Faversham's dark face showed a certain discomposure. Physical delicacy had given a peculiar distinction to the gaunt black and white of his eyes, hair, and complexion, and to the thinness of his long frame, so that Tatham, who would have said before seeing him that he remembered him perfectly, found himself looking at him from time to time in surprise. As to his surroundings, Faversham appeared not only willing but anxious to explain.
"It's a queer business," he said frankly. "I can assure I you I never asked for anything, never wished for anything of the sort. Everything was arranged for me to go to Keswick—to a home there—when—this happened."
"When old Melrose broke out!" Tatham threw back his head and gurgled with laughter. "I suppose you know that nobody but yourself has ever had bite or sup in this house for twenty years, unless it were some of the dealers, who—they say—come occasionally. What have you done to him? You've cast a spell on him!"
Faversham replied again that he had done nothing, and was as much puzzled as anybody.
"My mother was afraid you would be anything but comfortable," said Tatham. "She knows this gentleman of old. But she didn't know your powers of soothing the savage breast! However, you have only to say the word, and we shall be delighted to take you in for as long as you like."
"Oh, I must stay here now," said Faversham decidedly. "One couldn't be ungrateful for what has been done. But my best thanks to Lady Tatham all the same. I hope I may get over to see her some day."
"You must, of course. Dixon tells me there is a carriage coming—perhaps a motor; why not!"