oundary on the side he was approaching, stood
half-a-dozen genteel and modern houses, of the detached kind usually
found in such suburbs. On inquiry, Sir William De Stancy's residence was
indicated as one of these.

It was almost new, of streaked brick, having a central door, and a small
bay window on each side to light the two front parlours. A little
lawn spread its green surface in front, divided from the road by iron
railings, the low line of shrubs immediately within them being coated
with pallid dust from the highway. On the neat piers of the neat
entrance gate were chiselled the words 'Myrtle Villa.' Genuine roadside
respectability sat smiling on every brick of the eligible dwelling.

Perhaps that which impressed Somerset more than the mushroom modernism
of Sir William De Stancy's house was the air of healthful cheerfulness
which pervaded it. He was shown in by a neat maidservant in black gown
and white apron, a canary singing a welcome from a cage in the shadow
of the window, the voices of crowing cocks coming over the chimneys from
somewhere behind, and the sun and air riddling the house everywhere.

A dwelling of those well-known and popular dimensions which allow the
proceedings in the kitchen to be distinctly heard in the parlours, it
was so planned that a raking view might be obtained through it from the
front door to the end of the back garden. The drawing-room furniture
was comfortable, in the walnut-and-green-rep style of some years ago.
Somerset had expected to find his friends living in an old house with
remnants of their own antique furniture, and he hardly knew whether he
ought to meet them with a smile or a gaze of condolence. His doubt
was terminated, however, by the cheerful and tripping entry of Miss De
Stancy, who had returned from her drive to Markton; and in a few more
moments Sir William came in from the garden.

He was an old man of tall and spare build, with a considerable stoop,
his glasses dangling against his waistcoat-buttons, and the front
corners of his coat-tails hanging lower than the hinderparts, so that
they swayed right and left as he walked. He nervously apologized to his
visitor for having kept him waiting.

'I am so glad to see you,' he said, with a mild benevolence of tone,
as he retained Somerset's hand for a moment or two; 'partly for your
father's sake, whom I met more than once in my younger days, before he
became so well-known; and also because I learn that you were