And Garratt Skinner, turning about, saw the light in his daughter's face.
"You know him!" he cried, roughly.
"Yes." "He has come to see you ?" "Yes." "You should have told me," said Garratt Skinner, angrily.

"I dislike secrecies." Sylvia raised her eyes and looked her father steadily in the face.

But Garratt Skinner was not so easily abashed.

He returned her look as steadily.
"Who is he ?" he continued, in a voice of authority.
"Captain Hilary Chayne." It seemed for a moment that the name was vaguely familiar to Garratt Skinner, and Sylvia added: "I met him this summer in Switzerland." "Oh, I see," said her father, and he looked with a new interest across the garden to the door.

"He is a great friend." "My only friend," returned Sylvia, softly; and her father stepped forward and called aloud, holding up his hand: "Barstow! Barstow!" Sylvia noticed then, and not till then, that the coming of her friend was not the only change which had taken place since she had last looked out upon the garden.