He touched her hand lightly with his.

“You are too sensitive, dear,” he said, “and a little too imaginative.  You must remember that she is half a foreigner.  Her moods change every moment, and her expression with them.  She was curious to see you.  I have tried to explain to her what friends we are.  I am sure that her interest is a friendly one.”

A motor horn immediately behind startled them both.  They turned their heads.  A very handsome car, driven by a man in white livery, had swept up the little drive and had come to a standstill in front of the hall door.  From the side nearest to them Count Sabatini descended, and stood for a moment looking around him.  The car moved on towards the stables.  Sabatini came slowly across the lawn.

“Who is it?” she whispered.  “How handsome he is!”

“He is Mrs. Weatherley’s brother—­Count Sabatini,” Arnold replied.

He came very slowly and, recognizing Arnold, waved his gray Homburg hat with a graceful salute.  He was wearing cool summer clothes of light gray, with a black tie, boots with white linen gaiters, and a flower in his coat.  Even after his ride from London he looked immaculate and spotless.  He greeted Arnold kindly and without any appearance of surprise.

“I heard that you were to be here,” he said.  “My sister told me of her little plot.  I hope that you approve of my bungalow?”

“I think that it is wonderful,” Arnold answered.  “I have never seen anything of the river before—­this part of it, at any rate.”

Sabatini turned slightly towards Ruth, as though expecting an introduction.  His lips were half parted; he had the air of one about to make a remark.  Then suddenly a curious change seemed to come over his manner.  His natural ease seemed to have entirely departed.  He stood stiff and rigid, and there was something forbidding in his face as he looked down at the girl who had glanced timidly towards him.  A word—­it was inaudible but it sounded like part of a woman’s name—­escaped him.  He had the appearance, during those few seconds, of a man who looks through the present into a past world.  It was all over before even they could appreciate the situation.  With a little smile he had leaned down towards Ruth.

“You will do me the honor,” he murmured, “of presenting me to your companion?”

Arnold spoke a word or two of introduction.  Sabatini pulled up a chair and sat down at once by the girl’s side.  He had seen the stick and seemed to have taken in the whole situation in a moment.

“Please be very good-natured,” he begged, turning to Arnold, “and go and find my sister.  She will like to know that I am here.  I am going to talk to Miss Lalonde for a time, if she will let me.  You don’t mind my being personal?” he went on, his voice soft with sympathy.  “I had a very dear cousin once who was unable to walk for many years, and since then it has always interested me to find any one suffering in the same way.”