ring it. This always seems to me
such a quaint, fascinating corner of the world that I love to read and
hear all that people have to say about it."

"You are very kind," I said; "but if you come I am afraid you will be
bored. The notes which I have put together are prepared for the
comprehension of the village people."

"So much the better," she declared. "I prefer anything which does not
make too great a strain upon the intellect. Besides, it is the very
simplicity of this country which makes it so beautiful."

"Yet it is a land," I remarked, "of elusive charms."

"Sometimes, unless they are pointed out," she replied, "by one who has
the eye and ear for nature, these are the hardest to appreciate. Only
the other evening I was standing upon the cliffs, and I thought what a
dreary waste of marshes and sands the place was, and then a single gleam
of late sunshine seemed to transform everything. There is hidden
colour everywhere if one looks closely enough, and I suppose it is true
that the most beautiful things in the world are those which remain just
below the surface--a little invisible until one searches for them.
By-the-bye, Mr. Ducaine," she added, "if you are on your way home I can
show you a path which will save you nearly half the distance."

"You are very kind, Lady Angela," I answered. "Cannot I find it,
though, without taking you out of your way?"

She smiled.

"You might," she said, "but I walk down to the cliffs every afternoon.
I was just starting when you came. It is quite a regular pilgrimage
with me. All day long we hear the sea, but except from the upper
windows we have no clear view of it. This is the path."

We crossed the Park together. All the while she talked to me easily and
naturally of the country around, the great antiquity of its landmarks,
the survival of many ancient customs and almost obsolete forms of
speech. At last we came to a small plantation, through which we emerged
on to the cliffs. Here, to my surprise, we came upon a quaintly shaped
grey stone cottage almost hidden by the trees. I had passed on the
sands below many times without seeing it.

"Rather a strange situation for a house, is it not?" Lady Angela
remarked. "My grandfather built it for an old pensioner, but I do not
think that it has been occupied for some time."

"It is marvellously hidden," I said. "I never had the least idea that
there was a house here at all."

We stood now on the edge of the cliff, and she