s of Donegal, or Sarah and Mary of
Billabong, who disliked caps, but had not the slightest objection to
helping to put out a bush-fire or break in a young colt. Norah tried
to picture the Homewood maids at either task, and failed signally.

From the house they wandered out to visit well-appointed stables with
room for a dozen horses, and a garage where a big touring car
stood--Norah found herself quite unable to realize that it belonged to
her! But in the stables were living things that came and nuzzled
softly in her hand with inquiring noses that were evidently accustomed
to gifts of sugar and apples, and Norah felt suddenly, for the first
time, at home. There were two good cobs, and a hunter with a
beautiful lean head and splendid shoulders; a Welsh pony designed for
a roomy tub-cart in the coach house; and a good old stager able for
anything from carrying a nervous rider to drawing a light plough. The
cobs, the groom explained, were equally good in saddle or harness; and
there was another pony, temporarily on a visit to a vet., which Sir
John had liked to ride. "But of course Killaloe was Sir John's
favourite," he added, stroking the hunter's soft brown muzzle. "There
wasn't no one could show them two the way in a big run."

They tore themselves with difficulty from the stables, and, still
guided by the butler, who seemed to think he must not let them out of
his sight, wandered through the grounds. Thatched cottage, orchard,
and walled garden, rosery, with a pergola still covered with late
blooms, lawns and shrubberies. There was nothing very grand, but all
was exquisitely kept; and a kind of still peace brooded over the
beauty of the whole, and made War and its shadows seem very far away.
The farms, well-tilled and prosperous-looking, were at the western
side of the park: Mr. Linton and Jim talked with the tenant whose
lease was expiring while Norah and Wally sat on an old oak log and
chatted to the butler, who told them tales of India, and asked
questions about Australia, being quite unable to realize any
difference between the natives of the two countries. "All niggers, I
calls them," said the butler loftily.

"That seems a decent fellow," said Mr. Linton, as they walked back
across the park. "Hawkins, the tenant-farmer, I mean. Has he made a
success of his place, do you know?"

"'Awkins 'as an excellent name, sir," replied the butler. "A good,
steady man, and a rare farmer. The General thinks 'ig