to a side-door, and had hardly stopped when the
ringing voice of Jack Burton greeted our ears, and he came striding out,
his glorious hair all afloat, as I had seen him in London streets a week
before. All my love for the man--and I can use no lesser term--came back
on the instant, and I grasped his hand almost as warmly as he did mine,
I was so glad to be there.

"'Come in and see my father,' he said. 'He was afraid we should not see
you to-night.'

"We went into the hall, and then, immediately through an open door at
the farther end, into the most homelike room I ever saw,--a large room,
exquisitely toned by great brown rafters, and lit by two fires, one at
each end. Near one stood an immense wooden table covered with tools of
every kind, and with what seemed to me a confused heap of saddles and
bridles. Over it bent two men and a woman. I only saw that all three had
the same wonderful light hair which so fascinated me; for Burton led us
directly to the other fire, and introduced us to his father. He was a
man of seventy, very roughly dressed, but self-possessed and courteous.
'You are welcome to Darrow,' he said, in low, gentle tones. 'I hope I
shall be able to give you good sport while you are here.'

"This seemed to be all we were expected to say with him, for he bowed
slightly, and Burton said, 'Come now to the workshop, as I call it,' and
led us to the other end of the room. Satterlee went forward and shook
hands warmly with the two young men and their sister, whose face I did
not see, as it was turned away from me; and then Burton said, 'Lillie,
this is Mr. Erle, whose hat you found so comfortable.'

"As he began to speak, she looked round, and held out her hand with a
frank smile, saying, 'I, too, must thank you for that famous hat, Mr.
Erle, for I wore it in a hard rain, day before yesterday, when I had to
go out to train my colt for the coming races.'

"She said this very simply, in a sweet, almost singing tone, not unlike
her father's, looking me full in the face meanwhile. I will try to tell
you what she was like,--for I can remember her, after all these years,
just as she stood, a saddler's awl in her hand, by the great table at
Darrow. She was tall and broad and perfectly symmetrical in figure. I
have never seen a woman who at the first glance gave the idea of elastic
strength as she did, and yet she was by no means what you would call a
large woman. Her face was like her brother's, really handsome, a