Miss Ferrers had evidently been writing from her brother's dictation, for several letters were lying ready for the post. As Erle had crossed the hall he had distinctly heard the sound of her clear, musical voice, as she read aloud: but the book was already laid aside, and she had risen to welcome him.
Erle fancied she looked paler than on the previous occasion, and he wondered what Mr. Ferrers would have said if he had seen those dark lines under her eyes; perhaps she never told him when she was tired--women liked to be martyrs sometimes.
He was received very cordially; and Miss Ferrers seemed rather touched at the contents of her little note.
"It was good of Lady Redmond to write," she said to Erle with a smile; "but she makes far too much of my little services."
"Oh, that is just her way," returned Erle, candidly. "She is such a grateful little soul. Most people take all one's attentions as a matter of course; but Fay is not like that."
"Oh, no, she is very sweet," observed Margaret, thoughtfully; somehow she had yearned to see that pretty, bright face again.
"She is the finest little creature that ever lived," returned Erle, with boyish enthusiasm; "it is wonderful how little she thinks about herself. And she is about the prettiest girl one can see anywhere; and she is clever, too, though you would not believe it to hear her; for she always wants to make out that she can do nothing."
Mr. Ferrers smiled at this. "Lady Redmond did seem bent on proving that fact to us."
"Of course, did I not tell you so? but don't you believe her, Mr. Ferrers. Why, even Hugh, critical as he is, owns Fay is the best horsewoman in these parts. I should like to see her and Bonnie Bess in the Row; she would make a sensation there. And it is quite a treat to see her drive her ponies; she knows how to handle a horse's mouth. Why, those tiny hands of hers could hold in a couple of thorough-breds. Oh, she is a good sort; the Spooner girls swear by her."
Miss Ferrers looked kindly at the young man; she liked to hear him vaunting his cousin's excellencies after this unsophisticated fashion. She had taken rather a fancy to this boyish, outspoken young fellow; and her brother shared this liking. She was about to put a question to him, when he suddenly started up with an exclamation, and the next moment he had crossed the room and was standing before a picture, with a very puzzled expression on his face. It was the portrait of a girl, and evidently painted by a good artist. Of course it was she, Erle told himself after another quick look; in spite of the smiling mouth, he could not mistake her. There was the small, finely shaped head, set so beautifully on the long neck; the coils of black hair; the dark, dreamy eyes, which always seemed to hold a shadow in them.