He smiled suddenly.
"I am going there, too. Do you happen to know a place called Upton
House?"
Christine flushed.
"It's my home," she said. "I live there."
"What a coincidence. I heard it was in the market—I am going down with a view to purchase."
Her face saddened.
"Yes—it is to be sold. My mother died last month. . . . Everything is to be sold."
"You are sorry to have to part with it?" he asked her sympathetically.
"Yes." Tears rose to her eyes, and she brushed them, ashamedly away. "I've lived there all my life," she told him. "All my happiest days have been spent there." She was thinking of Jimmy, and the days when he rode old Judas barebacked round the paddock.
The stranger was looking at Christine interestedly; he glanced down at her left hand, from which she had removed the glove; he was surprised to see that she wore a wedding ring.