nvoked its humanity in some out-of-the-way refectory, for the
halls and passages were tenantless. For the first time he began to be
impressed with a certain foreign quaintness in the surroundings; he
found himself also recalling something he had read when a boy, about
an enchanted palace whose inhabitants awoke on the arrival of
a long-predestined Prince. To assure himself of the absolute
ridiculousness of this fancy, he took from his pocket the business-card
of its proprietor, a sample of dye, and recalled his own personality in
a letter of credit. Having dismissed this idea from his mind, he lounged
on again through a rustic lane that might have led to a farmhouse, yet
was still, absurdly enough, a part of the factory gardens. Crossing
a ditch by a causeway, he presently came to another ditch and another
causeway, and then found himself idly contemplating a massive, ivy-clad,
venerable brick wall. As a mere wall it might not have attracted his
attention; but it seemed to enter and bury itself at right angles in the
side-wall of a quite modern-looking dwelling. After satisfying himself
of this fact, he passed on before the dwelling, but was amazed to see
the wall reappear on the other side exactly the same--old, ivy-grown,
sturdy, uncompromising, and ridiculous.

Could it actually be a part of the house? He turned back, and repassed
the front of the building. The entrance door was hospitably open. There
was a hall and a staircase, but--by all that was preposterous!--they
were built OVER and AROUND the central brick intrusion. The wall
actually ran through the house! "A country," said Mr. Clinch to himself,
"where they build their houses over ruins to accommodate them, or save
the trouble of removal, is,--" but a very pleasant voice addressing him
here stopped his usual hasty conclusion.

"Guten Morgen!"

Mr. Clinch looked hastily up. Leaning on the parapet of what appeared
to be a garden on the roof of the house was a young girl, red-cheeked,
bright-eyed, blond-haired. The voice was soft, subdued, and mellow; it
was part of the new impression he was receiving, that it seemed to be
in some sort connected with the ivy-clad wall before him. His hat was in
his hand as he answered,--

"Guten Morgen!"

"Was the Herr seeking anything?"

"The Herr was only waiting a longtime-coming friend, and had strayed
here to speak with the before-known proprietor."

"So? But, the before-known proprietor sleeping well at present af