find it, but it was hidden.

We dashed through the gate into the momentary darkness of the drive,
emerged between great green lawns, and drew up before the big doorway of
the hall. I looked into her eyes, and said "Welcome!"

She only smiled in answer.

I would not let her enter the house immediately, but made her come with
me to the terrace above the river, to see the view over the Cumbrian
mountains and the moors of Eskdale.

The sky was very clear and pale, but over Styhead the clouds were
boiling up. The Screes that guard ebon Wastwater looked grim and sad.

Margot stood beside me on the terrace, but her chatter had been
succeeded by silence. And I, too, was silent for the moment, absorbed in
contemplation. But presently I turned to her, wishing to see how she was
impressed by her new domain.

She was not looking towards the river and the hills, but at the terrace
walk itself, the band of emerald turf that bordered it, the stone pots
full of flowers, the winding way that led into the shrubbery.

She was looking at these intently, and with a strangely puzzled, almost
startled expression.

"Hush! Don't speak to me for a moment," she said, as I opened my lips.
"Don't; I want to---- How odd this is!"

And she gazed up at the windows of the house, at the creepers that
climbed its walls, at the sloping roof and the irregular chimney-stacks.

Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyes were full of an inward
expression that told me she was struggling with forgetfulness and
desired recollection.

I was silent, wondering.

At last she said: "Ronald, I have never been in the North of England
before, never set foot in Cumberland; yet I seem to know this terrace
walk, those very flower-pots, the garden, the look of that roof, those
chimneys, even the slanting way in which that great creeper climbs. Is
it not--is it not very strange?"

She gazed up at me, and in her blue eyes there was an expression almost
of fear.

I smiled down on her. "It must be your fancy," I said.

"It does not seem so," she replied. "I feel as if I had been here
before, and often, or for a long time." She paused; then she said: "Do
let me go into the house. There ought to be a room there--a room--I seem
almost to see it. Come! Let us go in."

She took my hand and drew me towards the hall door. The servants were
carrying in the luggage, and there was a certain amount of confusion and
noise, but she did not seem to notice it. She was in