de of the estate
and had made it famous in this respect. His father, less interested in
shooting and hunting, had devoted time and means to the flower gardens,
and rendered them as rich as was possible in his day; while earlier yet,
Sir Walter's grandfather had been more concerned for the interior, and
had done much to enrich and beautify it.

A great terrace stretched between the south front and a balustrade of
granite, that separated it from the gardens spreading at a lower level.
Here walked Henry Lennox and sought Tom May. It was now past eight
o'clock on Sunday morning, and he found himself alone. The sun, breaking
through heaviness of morning clouds, had risen clear of Haldon Hills
and cast a radiance, still dimmed by vapour, over the glow of the autumn
trees. Subdued sounds of birds came from the glades below, and far
distant, from the scrub at the edge of the woods, pheasants were
crowing. The morning sparkled, and, in a scene so fair, Henry found his
spirits rise. Already the interview with Mary's husband on the preceding
night seemed remote and unreal. He was, however, conscious that he had
made an ass of himself, but he did not much mind, for it could not be
said that May had shone, either.

He called him, and, for reply, an old spaniel emerged from beneath,
climbed a flight of broad steps that ascended to the terrace, and
paddled up to Henry, wagging his tail. He was a very ancient hero, whose
record among the wild duck still remained a worthy memory and won him
honour in his declining days. The age of "Prince" remained doubtful,
but he was decrepit now--gone in the hams and suffering from cataract of
both eyes--a disease to which it is impossible to minister in a dog.
But his life was good to him; he still got about, slept in the sun, and
shared the best his master's dish could offer. Sir Walter adored
him, and immediately felt uneasy if the creature did not appear when
summoned. Often, had he been invisible too long, his master would wander
whistling round his haunts. Then he would find him, or be himself found,
and feel easy again.

"Prince" went in to the open window of the breakfast-room, while Henry,
moved by a thought, walked round the eastern angle of the house and
looked up at the oriel window of the Grey Room, where it hung aloft
on the side of the wall, like a brilliant bubble, and flashed with the
sunshine that now irradiated the casement. To his surprise he saw the
window was thrown open and