Then came swift steps and jangling spurs across the hall, the door opened suddenly, and Mr.Wilding, in a scarlet riding-coat, his boots white with dust, stood bowing to her from the threshold.
"Your servant, Mistress Westmacott," she heard him murmur.

"My house is deeply honoured." She dropped him a half-curtsy, pale and tongue-tied.

He turned to deliver hat and whip and gloves to Walters, who had followed him, then closed the door and came forward into the room.
"You will forgive that I present myself thus before you," he said, in apology for his dusty raiment.

"But I bethought me you might be in haste, and Walters tells me that already have you waited nigh upon an hour.

Will you not sit, madam ?" And he advanced a chair.