lieved, kept her own independence
in the matter.

As she entered the iron gates at the lower end of the park, and glanced
at the interwoven cipher and crest of the Amelyns still above, she was
conscious that the wind was blowing more chill, and that a few clouds
had gathered. As she walked on down the long winding avenue, the sky
became overcast, and, in one of those strange contrasts of the English
climate, the glory of the whole day went out with the sunshine. The
woods suddenly became wrinkled and gray, the distant hills sombre, the
very English turf beneath her feet grew brown; a mile and a half away,
through the opening of the trees, the west part of the Priory looked
a crumbling, ivy-eaten ruin. A few drops of rain fell. She hurried
on. Suddenly she remembered that the avenue made a long circuit before
approaching the house, and that its lower end, where she was walking,
was but a fringe of the park. Consequently there must be a short cut
across some fields and farm buildings to the back of the park and the
Priory. She at once diverged to the right, presently found a low fence,
which she clambered over, and again found a footpath which led to a
stile. Crossing that, she could see the footpath now led directly to the
Priory,--now a grim and austere looking pile in the suddenly dejected
landscape,--and that it was probably used only by the servants and
farmers. A gust of wind brought some swift needles of rain to her cheek;
she could see the sad hills beyond the Priory already veiling their
faces; she gathered her skirts and ran. The next field was a long one,
but beside the further stile was a small clump of trees, the only ones
between her and the park. Hurrying on to that shelter, she saw that the
stile was already occupied by a tall but bent figure, holding a long
stick in his hand, which gave him the appearance, against the horizon,
of the figure of Time leaning on his scythe. As she came nearer she saw
it was, indeed, an old man, half resting on his rake. He was very
rugged and weather-beaten, and although near the shelter of the trees,
apparently unmindful of the rain that was falling on his bald head, and
the limp cap he was holding uselessly in one hand. He was staring at
her, yet apparently unconscious of her presence. A sudden instinct came
upon her--it was "Debs"!

She went directly up to him, and with that frank common sense which
ordinarily distinguished her, took his cap from his hand and put it
on