rhaps so," she admitted, "but you must remember that Mr. Ledsam is
my only alternative, and I am not at all sure that he likes me. I am not
sufficiently Victorian for his taste."

The dressing-bell rang. Sir Timothy passed his arm through Francis'.

"The sentimental side of my domain;" he said, "the others may show you.
My rose garden across the stream has been very much admired. I am
now going to give you a glimpse of The Walled House, an edifice the
possession of which has made me more or less famous."

He led the way through a little shrubbery, across a further strip of
garden and through a door in a high wall, which he opened with a key
attached to his watch-chain. They were in an open park now, studded
with magnificent trees, in the further corner of which stood an
imposing mansion, with a great domed roof in the centre, and broad stone
terraces, one of which led down to the river. The house itself was an
amazingly blended mixture of old and new, with great wings supported by
pillars thrown out on either side. It seemed to have been built without
regard to any definite period of architecture, and yet to have attained
a certain coherency--a far-reaching structure, with long lines of
outbuildings. In the park itself were a score or more of horses, and in
the distance beyond a long line of loose boxes with open doors. Even as
they stood there, a grey sorrel mare had trotted up to their side
and laid her head against Sir Timothy's shoulder. He caressed her
surreptitiously, affecting not to notice the approach of other animals
from all quarters.

"Let me introduce you to The Walled House," its owner observed, "so
called, I imagine, because this wall, which is a great deal older than
you or I, completely encloses the estate. Of course, you remember the
old house, The Walled Palace, they called it? It belonged for many years
to the Lynton family, and afterwards to the Crown."

"I remember reading of your purchase," Francis said, "and of course
I remember the old mansion. You seem to have wiped it out pretty
effectually."

"I was obliged to play the vandal," his host confessed. "In its previous
state, the house was picturesque but uninhabitable. As you see it now,
it is an exact reproduction of the country home of one of the lesser
known of the Borgias--Sodina, I believe the lady's name was. You will
find inside some beautiful arches, and a sense of space which all modern
houses lack. It cost me a great deal of money