clipped to fantastic patterns: the house so placed withal, that, while
its north front faced the park, its south front, ivy-covered, looked
over a bright lawn and bright parterres of flowers, down upon the long
green levels of Rowland Marshes, and away to the blue sea beyond,--the
blue sea, the white cliffs, the yellow sands.

Anthony and Adrian, arm in arm, sauntered on without speaking, till
they attained the crest of a sweeping bit of upland, and the house and
the sea came in view. Here they halted, and stood for a minute in
contemplation of the prospect.

"The sea," said Adrian, disengaging his arm, that he might be free to
use it as a pointer, and then pointing with it, "the sea has put on her
bluest frock, to honour your return. And behold, decked in the hues of
Iris, that gallant procession of cliffs, like an army with banners,
zigzagging up from the world's rim, to bid you welcome. Oh, you were
clearly not unexpected. If no smoke rises from yonder chimneys,--if
your ancestral chimney-stone is cold,--that's merely because, despite
the season, we 're having a spell of warmish weather, and we 've let
the fires go out. 'T is June. Town 's full; country 's depopulated.
In Piccadilly, I gather from the public prints, vehicular traffic is
painfully congested. Meanwhile, I 've a grand piece of news for your
private ear. Guess a wee bit what it is."

"Oh, I 'm no good at guessing," said Anthony, with languor, as they
resumed their walk.

"Well--what will you give me, then, if I 'll blurt it out?" asked
Adrian, shuffling along sidewise, so that he might face his companion.

"My undivided attention--provided you blurt it briefly," Anthony
promised.

"Oh, come," Adrian urged, swaying his head and shoulders. "Betray a
little curiosity, at least."

"Curiosity is a vice I was taught in my youth to suppress," said
Anthony.

"A murrain on your youth," cried Adrian, testily. "However, since
there 's no quieting you otherwise, I suppose, for the sake of peace, I
'd best tell you, and have done with it. Well, then,"--he stood off,
to watch the effect of his announcement,--"Craford's Folly is let."

"Ah?" said Anthony, with no sign of emotion.

Adrian's face fell.

"Was there ever such inhumanity?" he mourned. "I tell him that--thanks
to my supernatural diligence in his affairs--his own particular
millstone is lifted from his neck. I tell him that a great white
elephant of a house, which for years has been