Sir Stephen Orme and I haven't met for--how long ago is it, Orme ?" Sir Stephen shook his head, and raised his thick, dark brows.
"Too long for us to go back--especially in the presence of these young people, whom we are always trying to persuade that we are not old.

I am delighted to see you, my dear young lady, and I am devoured by curiosity to know how it is that you are here." "Well, we owe it to your son, Mr.Orme here, I should imagine, Sir Stephen," she replied.

She had fully recovered her self-possession, and her manner and voice had all the tone of pride and indolence which Stafford had noticed when he met her at the inn.

"If he had not stopped the horses, I suppose we should have either been killed or on the way to the nearest hospital.

By the way, have you thanked Mr.Orme yet, father ?" "Not yet; and I shall find it difficult to do so," said Mr.Falconer.
"Thanks are poor return for one's life, Mr.Orme.I hope you were not hurt." He glanced at Stafford's usually immaculate dress-clothes, which were covered with dust on one side, and displayed a rent in the sleeve of the coat.
"Oh, that's all right, sir," returned Stafford, with all an Englishman's dread of a fuss.