But the sunshine was so delightful, the sight of the empty bench and the abandoned novel on the other side of the lawn so beguiling, that after all he turned his lazy steps thither-ward, half ashamed, half amused to think how well Lady Dunstable had read his character.
The guests had all disappeared.

Meadows had the garden to himself, and all its summer prospect of moor and stream.

It was close on noon--a hot and heavenly day! And again he thought of Doris cooped up in London.
Perhaps, after all, he would get out of that cruise! Ah! there was the morning train--the midnight express from King's Cross just arriving in the busy little town lying in the valley at his feet.
He watched it gliding along the valley, and heard the noise of the brakes.

Were any new guests expected by it?
he wondered.

Hardly! The Lodge seemed quite full.
* * * * * Twenty minutes later he threw away the novel impatiently.