ling when he comed for his bit o' dinner?
Them bees, they've been that excited all day, I knew that couldn't mean
nothing but a visitor. They know when a stranger comes about as well
as well. Never you think about the dinkie, ma'm, I'll see to he. Jes'
you go right in. The kettle, that have been on the boil a-waitin' this
hour or more; for them bees, they told me you'd be bringin' a visitor
back with you as certain as anythin'. Pallin', he said to I, 'Where's
a visitor comin' from, I'd like to know?' But Pallin', he ain't no
believer; he wouldn't believe he was dying not unless he woke up an'
found himself dead--that he wouldn't."

"I'll promise to believe anything the bees tell you if only you will
get us a cup of tea," interrupted Isabella, cutting short the stream of
the good woman's volubility. "Now come in," she continued, taking
Philippa's arm.

They walked up the narrow flagged pathway, at the end of which two
bushes of yew, neatly clipped, stood like sentries on either side of
the doorway, where the overhanging thatch hung low, with a patch of
golden houseleek glowing like a jewel upon its weather-stained and
varied tones.

The interior was small and low, but it was evident from its look of
comfort that affectionate care and good taste had been lavished upon
its simple furnishing. On the walls, which were plainly distempered a
light colour, hung a few photographs of well-known pictures. A sofa
and one or two easy-chairs covered with a pretty chintz, an oak table
shining with age and the results of Mrs. Palling's energetic polishing,
a few pieces of cottage china and various trifles which spoke of travel
in far lands--these and a number of books formed all the furniture of
the simple apartment.

In the wall, opposite to the one by which they had entered, was a door
hung with a curtain of Chinese embroidery, its once brilliant hues now
faded to tender purples and greys, and Isabella stepped forward and
pulled it aside.

"Ah," she said, in reply to Philippa's murmur of admiration, "this is
nothing. Wait until you see what I am going to show you."

She opened the door and Philippa passed through it, and then stood
quite still, struck dumb by the beauty of the scene before her. She
found herself standing in a low space--it could not exactly be called a
verandah, for it was evidently a part of the original building, perhaps
a shed of some kind, and it was under the shelter of the thatch, but
the out