brothers, she had the sense to say to him, "Excuse me asking, but are you the younger Mr. Wilcox or the elder?"
"The younger. Can I do anything for you?"
"Oh, well—" She controlled herself with difficulty. "Really. Are you? I—" She moved away from the ticket boy and lowered her voice. "I am Miss Schlegel's aunt. I ought to introduce myself, oughtn't I? My name is Mrs. Munt."
She was conscious that he raised his cap and said quite coolly, "Oh, rather; Miss Schlegel is stopping with us. Did you want to see her?"
"Possibly—"
"I'll call you a cab. No; wait a mo—" He thought. "Our motor's here. I'll run you up in it."
"That is very kind—"
"Not at all, if you'll just wait till they bring out a parcel from the office. This way."
"My niece is not with you by any chance?"
"No; I came over with my father. He has gone on north in your train. You'll see Miss Schlegel at lunch. You're coming up to lunch, I hope?"
"I should like to come up," said Mrs. Munt, not committing herself to nourishment until she had studied Helen's lover a little more. He seemed a gentleman, but had so rattled her round that her powers of observation were numbed. She glanced at him stealthily. To a feminine eye there was nothing amiss in the sharp depressions at the corners of his mouth, nor in the rather box-like construction of his forehead. He was dark, clean-shaven and seemed accustomed to command.
"In front or behind? Which do you prefer? It may be windy in front."
"In front if I may; then we can talk."
"But excuse me one moment—I can't think what they're doing with that parcel." He strode into the booking-office and called with a new voice: "Hi! hi, you there! Are you going to keep me waiting all
