very
masterly fashion, but at a sort of hasty random, and tiring of his
self-imposed task before half an hour was over, threw himself at length
beside the brook, and there, lulled by the ripple of the water and
the slumberous noise of insects, fell asleep. The valet's returning
footsteps awoke him. He rolled over idly and lit a new cigar.

"Shall I take back the things to the Hall, sir?" asked the servant.

"Yes, take them back to the Hall," said the young gentleman, lazily.
Rising to his feet, he produced a small pocket-mirror, and having
surveyed the reflection of his features, arranged his scarf, cocked
his cap, and sauntered from the field. His way led him past a high
time-crumbled wall, over which a half score of trees pushed luxuriant
branches. The wall was some ten feet in height, and in the middle of
it was a green-painted door which opened inward. It was not quite
closed, and a mere streak of sunlit grass could be seen within.

As the idle young gentleman sauntered along with his hands folded behind
him, his eyes half closed, and his nose in the air, a sudden burst of
music reached his ears and brought him to a stand-still. It surprised
him a little, partly because it was extremely well played, and partly
because the theme was classic and but little known. He moved his head
from side to side to make out, if possible, the inmates of the garden,
but he could see nothing but the figure of a girl, who leaned her hands
upon a tree and her cheek upon her hands. This, however, was enough to
pique curiosity, for the figure was singularly graceful, and had fallen
into an attitude of unstudied elegance. He pushed the door an
inch wider, and so far enlarged his view that he could see the
musicians--three old men and a young one--who sat in the middle of a
grassy space and ploughed away at the music with a will. Not caring
to be observed in his clandestine espial he drew back a little, still
keeping the figure of the girl in sight, and listened to the music.

He was so absorbed that the sudden spectacle of the Earl of Barfield,
who came round the corner with a ladder on his shoulder, startled him a
little. His lordship was followed by Joseph Beaker, who bore the saw and
the billhook, and the old nobleman was evidently somewhat fatigued, and
carried the ladder with difficulty. Seeing his young friend, he propped
his burden against the wall and mopped his forehead, casting an upward
glance at the boughs which stretched t