me--the lady looked up. Her hair was
dark, and her eyes; her face was pink and white, with a few little
gold-coloured freckles on nose and on cheek bones. Her dress was of pink
cotton stuff, thin and soft. She looked like a beautiful pink rose.

Our eyes met.

"I beg your pardon," said I, "I had no idea----" there I stopped and
tried to crawl back to firm ground. Graceful explanations are not best
given by one sprawling on his stomach across a sundial.

By the time I was once more on my feet she too was standing.

"It is a beautiful old place," she said gently, and, as it seemed, with
a kindly wish to relieve my embarrassment. She made a movement as if to
turn away.

"Quite a show place," said I stupidly enough, but I was still a little
embarrassed, and I wanted to say something--anything--to arrest her
departure. You have no idea how pretty she was. She had a straw hat
in her hand, dangling by soft black ribbons. Her hair was all
fluffy-soft--like a child's. "I suppose you have seen the house?" I
asked.

She paused, one foot still on the lower step of the sundial, and her
face seemed to brighten at the touch of some idea as sudden as welcome.

"Well--no," she said. "The fact is--I wanted frightfully to see the
house; in fact, I've come miles and miles on purpose, but there's no one
to let me in."

"The people at the lodge?" I suggested.

"Oh no," she said. "I--the fact is I--I don't want to be shown round. I
want to explore!"

She looked at me critically. Her eyes dwelt on my right hand, which lay
on the sundial. I have always taken reasonable care of my hands, and I
wore a good ring, a sapphire, cut with the Sefton arms: an heirloom, by
the way. Her glance at my hand preluded a longer glance at my face. Then
she shrugged her pretty shoulders.

"Oh well," she said, and it was as if she had said plainly, "I see that
you are a gentleman and a decent fellow. Why should I not look over the
house in your company? Introductions? Bah!"

All this her shrug said without ambiguity as without words.

"Perhaps," I hazarded, "I could get the keys."

"Do you really care very much for old houses?"

"I do," said I; "and you?"

"I care so much that I nearly broke into this one. I should have done it
quite if the windows had been an inch or two lower."

"I am an inch or two higher," said I, standing squarely so as to make
the most of my six-feet beside her five-feet-five or thereabouts.

"Oh--if you only would!"