It was the hero of the coming foot-race.

It was Geoffrey on his way back to Windygates House.
Arnold hurried forward to meet him.

Geoffrey stood still, poising himself on his stick, and let the other come up.
"Have you heard what has happened at the house ?" asked Arnold.
He instinctively checked the next question as it rose to his lips.
There was a settled defiance in the expression of Geoffrey's face, which Arnold was quite at a loss to understand.

He looked like a man who had made up his mind to confront any thing that could happen, and to contradict any body who spoke to him.
"Something seems to have annoyed you ?" said Arnold.
"What's up at the house ?" returned Geoffrey, with his loudest voice and his hardest look.
"Miss Silvester has been at the house." "Who saw her ?" "Nobody but Blanche." "Well ?" "Well, she was miserably weak and ill, so ill that she fainted, poor thing, in the library.

Blanche brought her to." "And what then ?" "We were all at lunch at the time.