lame that one is--the left-hand one!"

"You mean the near one, sir."

"Go to the devil with your near and off! I mean the left-hand one, the
mare; both her fore legs are as round as apples. Why, I saw that in the
spring."

"Not both of them," answered the old coachman, doggedly.

"Yes, they are; but I will have this looked to. I will have a stop put
to it, once for all," said Morten, decidedly. He was just in the humour
to take everything very much in earnest.

As soon as they arrived, he scarcely gave himself time to help Madeleine
out of the carriage, so anxious was he to examine the mare's fore legs;
and she heard the voices disputing and wrangling away in the direction
of the stable, as she went into the house.

Madeleine's window looked to the westward, and when she reached her room
she found it open. She was going to shut it, but the sea looked so
peaceful down below in the clear moonlight, that she knelt down on the
window-seat, and remained gazing at the lovely scene. The moon had just
reached the point at which it began to shine upon her window, and the
shadow fell obliquely from the corner of the house, just beyond the
hedge below, thus leaving a triangular space in darkness close
underneath. As Madeleine leant out she could see that Miss Cordsen's
window was also open. She was just going to call to the old lady, with
whom she was on the most friendly terms, but on consideration she
thought it would be nicer to enjoy the delightful moonlight evening
alone.

In that part of the garden the paths were to a great extent overgrown by
the spreading trees. The little pond, which had once been full of carp,
and where even now some remained, only no one seemed to notice them, was
fringed with tall rushes. On the other side was the old summer-house,
almost hidden among the shrubs, which were now never clipped. The fact
is, that part of the garden which was now most cared for was that which
lay just in front of the house, and the part we are now speaking of was
left pretty much to itself. Along the inside of the garden-wall there
stood a row of aspen trees, whose leaves were beginning to turn yellow
and strew themselves on the paths. Almost all the other trees still kept
their foliage, although it was already September. The mountain ash
berries were beginning to redden, and shone in heavy clusters among the
leaves, while here and there a leaf was to be seen turning from red to
yellow. The beech trees, which had b