Even my shabby brown frock seemed to be illuminated, and as to my face, it glowed with faint colour, and my eyes became large and bright. I washed my hands and brushed back my soft, dark hair. Then I returned to the drawing-room with Lady Carrington.

CHAPTER VI

A tall man was standing on the hearthrug when I came in. There was a cheerful fire burning in the grate, and he was standing with his back to it, and apparently enjoying the pleasant glow which emanated from its bright depths. There was also a young man in the room who was nearly as tall as the elder gentleman. The younger man had very dark eyes and an olive complexion, straight, rather handsome features, and a strong chin and a good mouth.

"John," said Lady Carrington, "here is little Heather."

"How do you do, my dear—how do you do?" said Sir John.

He came forward as he spoke and wrung my hand, looking into my eyes with a curious mingling of affection and amusement.

"Ah!" he said; "you have grown a good bit since that wonderful night long ago, eh, Heather?"

"I am grown up," I answered, trying to speak proudly, and yet feeling, all of a sudden, quite inclined to cry.

"Yes, of course, you're grown up," responded Sir John, and then his wife introduced the strange gentleman to me. His name was Captain Carbury, but when the Carringtons spoke to him they addressed him as "Vernon." He had a nice, frank manner, and it was he who was deputed to take me into the next room to lunch.

"I have heard a lot about you," he said. "The Carringtons have been quite keen about you. They've been wondering what day you would arrive, and making up all sorts of stories about what you'd look like, and your life in the past and what your life in the future will be."

"Heather, you must not mind Vernon, he always talks nonsense," said Lady Carrington. "Will you have clear or thick soup, dear? We always help ourselves at lunch, it makes the meal so much less formal."

I said I would have thick soup, and Captain Carbury took clear. He looked at me again once or twice, and I thought that his expression was somewhat quizzical, but, all the same, I liked him.

I had made in the course of my life a little gallery of heroes; they were 

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