n the
blood, sir, and she can ride--well, you saw for yourself."

"And has she no society, no amusements; doesn't she go out, have
friends, I mean?"

The landlord shook his head.

"No, sir; she just lives there with the squire, and they see no one,
receive no visits and pay none. You see, sir, the Herons are proud;
they're got cause to be, and I've heard it told that the squire is too
proud to let the old family friends see the poverty of the house, and
that he hates the new people who bought land and built houses in the
place--I'm sure I beg your pardon, sir--I was forgetting for the moment
that your father, Sir Stephen, had just built that beautiful place the
other side of the lake."

Stafford smiled.

"That's all right, Mr. Groves," he said. "I can quite understand Mr.
Heron thinking it confounded cheek of a stranger to come here and stick
up a great white place which no one can fail to see five miles off. I
suppose you think if I were to present myself at the Hall, I should get
a very cold reception, eh?"

"I'm afraid you wouldn't get any reception at all, sir," replied
Groves, with respectful candour. "I am afraid neither Mr. Heron nor
Miss Ida would see you. The old butler would just say: 'Not at home,'
as he says to the county people when they try and call there,
especially if they knew who you were, sir. If I remember rightly, the
part of the land Sir Stephen bought belonged to the Herons."

"I see," said Stafford. "It strikes me it is rather a sad story, Mr.
Groves; it's a case of the children paying for the sins of their
fathers."

"That's it, sir," assented the landlord. "It takes ages to build up a
house and a family like the Herons; but one man can knock it down, so
to speak. It's hard lines for Miss Ida, who is as well-born as any of
the titled people in the county, and far better than most. They say
that she's been wonderful well educated, too; though, of course, she
hasn't seen anything of the world, having come straight from some small
place in foreign parts to be shut up in the dale. And it's quite out of
the world here, sir, especially in the winter when the snow lies so
thick that we're almost imprisoned. But wet or fine, hot or cold, Miss
Ida can always be seen riding or driving or walking; she's a regular
Westmoreland lass for that; no weather frights her."

At this juncture Howard sauntered out of the sitting-room, and he and
Stafford went to the open door and looked out on the exquisi