The man's heart surged as his eyes beheld her.
"Oh, let's walk!" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of a horse and buggy on the driveway.
"Certainly, if you wish. But the roads are dusty; even driving is unpleasant."
He tried to speak naturally, but invisible fingers had him by the throat, and his words were strained.
"That's one reason why I proposed walking--because of the dusty roads. We'll go through, you know. Back through the garden, over a sparsely wooded upland, and down to the track. You did not know we were so near, did you?"
"No; but that will be fine. Is the Major in the library? I should like to pay my respects, if nothing more than to greet him."
"Yes; walk in. He's reading, and seems much improved. He'll be glad to see you."
Major Dudley looked up from his book as they appeared for a moment in the doorway, side by side. He smiled, and essayed to rise. Then John was at his side, gently pressing him back into his chair.
"Sit still, I beg you!" he said, taking the thin, soft hand of the old aristocrat. "I've only a moment, for Miss Dudley has promised to go with me to the track, and we mustn't delay. I'm glad to see you looking so well, Major."
"My health seems excellent, suh! But I cannot undergo any exertion. My haht is gettin' a little tahed, it seems, but it's been workin' long enough to deserve a rest. Won't you take a chair, suh?"
"Another time, thank you. The Prince is in fine trim, I believe?"
"Great colt, suh! Peter reports his condition puhfect."
"You have no apprehension in regard to the race?"
The old gentleman's eyes shot fire under their gray brows, and his body became more erect.
"I'm as satisfied he'll win as I am the sun will rise tuhmorrow!"
"Good! I share your belief to the full. Let me say good-bye now. The sun will not last much over an hour."
A minute later Julia and John were passing through the garden, side by side.
"Of course you read in the paper about Uncle Arthur's death?" she said.
John flushed guiltily, and he gave her a covert look. Her face was a little shadowed, and very sweet.
"Yes," he answered, seeking vainly in his mind for an excuse to change the subject.
"It was all very queer," she resumed, puckering her brow and shaking her head slowly. "The letter from the lawyer was so formal, and was not explicit. We have feared there was some mistake, as we have not heard from Uncle Arthur for so many years. Father wrote to the lawyer asking for further details, but has heard nothing from him."