heard the other day that he had
come in for some money, and had gone abroad for his wife's health."

"Oh, that's right enough," returned Amias. "Verity and I saw them off
two days ago. They have gone to the Black Forest. I meant to have told
you before, but something put it out of my head--that he has lent us
his cottage."

"What a piece of good luck! Upon my word, I am inclined to envy you,
Goliath."

"There is no need for you to do that," returned Amias cordially. "There
will be a 'prophet's chamber' ready for you when you feel inclined to
run down. It is a nice little place enough. 'The Crow's Nest' they call
it, though I am not sure there are any crows about. Verity and I ran
down to have a look at it. The house is a mere cottage, only just room
to swing two cats and a kitten--not a corner for any impotent genius to
woo the drowsy god in," and here Amias gave a great laugh; "but there
is a queer sort of garden room Logan has built which he calls his
workshop, and part of it is partitioned off as a bedroom. It is a bit
airy in the winter, he says, but simply perfect in the summer. You can
sleep with your window wide open, and great tea-roses nodding in at
you, and now and then a night-jar or a black-winged bat flitting
between you and the moon."

"It is a little bare certainly," observed Verity, "but so pleasant, and
I think I could make it comfortable for you, Mr. Herrick. The side
window looks out on a flower-border. There are great yellow clumps of
evening primroses and milky white nicotiana, and the roses are simply
everywhere."

"How long shall you stay?" asked Malcolm in an interested voice.

"Well, the Logans have offered it to us until the end of October,"
returned Verity; "and as it is so hot in town, Amias proposed this
morning that we should try and get off in another ten days. I think we
shall stay there until the end of summer."

"And what am I to do without you both--a lonely bachelor?" exclaimed
Malcolm. "For selfishness and want of feeling commend me to married
people. With regard to their less fortunate fellows they have simply no
conscience."

"My dear fellow, you will be as right as a trivet," returned Amias.
"You will have the Snark to attend to your comforts, and the maternal
Snark--a sad-faced but most respectable woman--to attend to her
daughter's. We have the Logan's servant, and a slip of a girl besides,
a sort of Marchioness, who answers to the name of Miranda. Verity will
find h