e.

"Oh, I am comfortable enough," returned Malcolm. "Chelsea is sacred
ground to me. Did not Carlyle live and die there! Besides, there is the
river and the bridges, and Battersea Park in the distance, and the
house where Gabriel Dante Rossetti lived, and an old historical church,
and the grand old Hospital, and all sorts of gray secluded old nooks
and corners over which I can gloat when I take my walks abroad."

"What a queer chap you are, Herrick," Cedric returned in a puzzled
tone. He felt rather like the bewildered Satyr when the traveller blew
hot and cold. But Malcolm was perfectly sincere. No man loved the
country more truly and sincerely. Nevertheless, the town was equally
necessary to him; and if he had been compelled to choose between them,
his casting vote would have been for town.

"We are at the top of the hill now," observed Cedric presently, with a
jerk of the reins to remind Brown Becky that she must not go to sleep,
and then they bowled swiftly down a wide-open road. They had just
passed a cross-road, which, as Cedric informed Malcolm, led to
Rotherwood, where the nearest church and shops were, when Malcolm's
attention was attracted by a house they were passing. It was a small
gray house, standing rather back from the road, with a garden at the
side full of gay flower-borders.

"Oh, that's the Crow's Nest," observed Cedric, "where the Logans live;
that is where your friends the Kestons are coming. Oh, there is no need
of looking at it now," as Malcolm craned his neck in his effort to see
more of it;, "we can go over it any day we like. Here we are at the
Wood House," and Cedric drove in at an open gate.

Malcolm looked round in pleased surprise. At that moment the house was
not visible. They seemed driving through a little wood--only the
carriage road winding between the fir trees was beautifully kept. Now
and then there was an open glade, but the greater part was thickly
fringed with heather, bracken, and whortleberry bushes.

The next moment Cedric turned a corner sharply, and a low gray house
and a well-kept tennis lawn were before them.

"What a charming place!" exclaimed Malcolm. "It certainly merits its
name--it is indeed a Wood House."

"Dinah is going to build a lodge next year," returned Cedric. "Lots of
people refuse to believe there is a house in the wood, and lose
themselves a dozen times before they find it. Ah, there's Dinah on the
look-out for us. Jump down, Herrick; I will foll