The sun was sparkling on the sea, and all nature was rejoicing as though pleased that the black shadow had been lifted at last.
Southgate and his wife were setting luncheon in the old timbered room at the Black Horse, with great care. There were flowers on the table, and a row of bottles on the sideboard.
“That will do I think,” he said, standing back to admire his work. A sound of voices outside announced the coming of the guests, and the Southgates melted away to smarten up.
Ena and her brother came in with Lord Reckavile and she looked a pretty sight in the sunlit room, a picture of happiness, now that the clouds had gone. In Reckavile also there was a subtle change. He appeared younger and the sad look had given place to a merry twinkle of the eye. He walked more briskly, and with a self assurance unknown before.
Sefton was thoroughly contented. There was a very good prospect of being able to go back to the Hospital to qualify, and his experience had taught him that his father’s discovery was no idle dream. They took their seats and waited for Sinclair who was due to complete the party.
Reckavile rang the bell, and Southgate appeared.
“Have you no servants?” asked Reckavile in mock anger.
“Yes, sir—I mean, my lord,” stammered the landlord.
“ ‘Sir’ will do Southgate, for the present—why do you not do as I asked you?”
“What was that, sir?”