On the morning but one after Miss Winter's return to Heron Dyke, Aaron Stone was crossing the lawn in front of the Hall, when he saw an elderly gentleman within its gates. Pacing to and fro and turning himself about, he seemed to be examining the house from different points of view in a manner that Aaron deemed to be the height of impudence. Aaron had hated strangers all his life, and he made no ado about walking up to this one and demanding by whose authority he was in the private grounds of Heron Dyke.
The old gentleman turned to face him.
"Ah, you are Aaron Stone, I expect: I have heard of you before to-day," said the stranger, as he peered at Aaron through his eyeglass.
"Well, I am Mr. Denison of Nunham Priors. Here is my card. Take it to Miss Winter, and ask her whether she can oblige me with an interview."
Aaron gave a great start at mention of the name, and shrank back a step or two. This little pleasant-faced, inoffensive elderly gentleman the man he had all his life been taught to hate, and whom he had always pictured to himself as more of a demon than a man! He could hardly believe the evidence of his eyes, and stood staring at a respectful distance.
"Take the card, man alive! What are you afraid of?" cried out Mr. Denison.
And there was so much in the impatient, commanding tone, ay, and in the words themselves, that put Aaron in mind of the other Mr. Denison, his late master, now dead and gone, that he took the card at once and hobbled off with it. Mr. Denison watched him with an amused smile. Ella was in her morning-room alone when the old servitor came in with a face white as milk.
"Oh, ma'am! Miss Ella! he has come at last! But don't you see him, ma'am--don't you speak to him. The old Squire will turn in his coffin if you do."
"Who is here?" exclaimed Ella. "Who is it that I am not to see?"
"He is outside on the lawn there, taking his views of the house; but if he once gets inside, there's no knowing what may happen. Keep him out, Miss Ella--keep him out!"