eped in
shade, the high bell-tower dropping a veil of English ivy as it rose
against the sky. Through the rusty iron gate of the graveyard the marble
slabs glimmered beneath submerging grasses, long, pale, tremulous like
reeds.

The grass-grown walk beside the low brick wall of the churchyard led on
to the judge's own garden, a square enclosure, laid out in straight
vegetable rows, marked off by variegated borders of flowering
plants--heartsease, foxglove, and the red-lidded eyes of scarlet
poppies. Beyond the feathery green of the asparagus bed there was a bush
of flowering syringa, another at the beginning of the grass-trimmed
walk, and yet another brushing the large white pillars of the square
front porch--their slender sprays blown from sun to shade like
fluttering streamers of cream-coloured ribbons. On the other side there
were lilacs, stately and leafy and bare of bloom, save for a few
ashen-hued bunches lingering late amid the heavy foliage. At the foot of
the garden the wall was hidden in raspberry vines, weighty with ripening
fruit.

The judge closed the gate after him and ascended the steps. It was not
until he had crossed the wide hall and opened the door of his study that
he heard the patter of bare feet, and turned to find that the boy had
followed him.

For an instant he regarded the child blankly; then his hospitality
asserted itself, and he waved him courteously into the room.

"Walk in, walk in, and take a seat. I am at your service."

He crossed to one of the tall windows, unfastening the heavy inside
shutters, from which the white paint was fast peeling away. As they fell
back a breeze filled the room, and the ivory faces of microphylla roses
stared across the deep window-seat. The place was airy as a summer-house
and odorous with the essence of roses distilled in the sunshine beyond.
On the high plastered walls, above the book-shelves, rows of bygone
Bassetts looked down on their departed possessions--stately and severe
in the artificial severity of periwigs and starched ruffles. They looked
down with immobile eyes and the placid monotony of past fashions,
smiling always the same smile, staring always at the same spot of floor
or furniture.

Below them the room was still hallowed by their touch. They asserted
themselves in the quaint curves of the rosewood chairs, in the blue
patterns upon the willow bowls, and in the choice lavender of the old
Wedgwood. Their handiwork was visible in the la