that he went to Manchester, and will return on Wednesday morning with Mr. Peter Barnacle, for he has ordered the carriage to meet them at Stranleigh station. They are to inspect the library privately, then come here for lunch, and in the afternoon the public opening takes place."
"I see. A most excellent arrangement."
"Perhaps, my lord, you would honour us by lunching here, with Mr. Barnacle?"
Stranleigh, still standing, glanced down with a smile at his faded knickerbockers.
"I am no fit guest, Mrs. Wilson, for any well-ordered household. I have fled from London to avoid formal luncheons and dinners, and especially to evade model, respectable people like Mr. Barnacle. My lunch on Wednesday will be a sandwich or two in the woods by the side of the stream."
The young man did not fail to observe that an expression of relief passed over the haggard countenance of Mrs. Wilson. Hesitatingly she asked a question.
"Have you—have you come from London to attend the opening of the library on Wednesday?"
"No; I knew nothing of it. I came, as I intimated, to loaf around the fields and woods."
