” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. “I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to see. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. “Who are you?” She asked innocently.
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