arate occasions himself and could not
but admit that she was far from unprepossessing; she was obviously a
lady, well-bred and educated, and, if her frock and hat had been a
trifle smarter than those usually seen in a country village, she had
owned up to having recently been to Paris to replenish her wardrobe. It
was curious, when he came to reflect upon it, how little she had told
him about herself, and yet, what was more curious, she had no sooner
left him after the second visit than he had betaken himself to his
solicitor to get him to make out the lease. She had received and signed
it the following day, showing herself remarkably business-like, but not
ungenerous when it came to the buying of the fixtures and to the vexed
question of outdoor and indoor repairs.

As the squire climbed the hill that gave upon the village from the
marshes, one cold March evening, he did not regret his decision; for,
standing in front of 'The Retreat,' he felt bound to admit that there
was something cheering and enlivening in the fact that the four front
windows now flaunted red curtains and holland blinds, where they had
been so dark and forbidding. In the lower one on the left, where the
lamps had not yet been lighted or the blinds drawn down, in the light of
the dancing fire, he could see distinctly a woman's workbox on a small
inlaid table, a volume of songs on the cottage piano, and, at the back
of the room, a hint of china tea cups, glistening silver and white
napery. Presently a trim maid came out to bolt the front door, followed
by two snuffling yellow dogs who took the air for a few moments in
tempestuous spirits, biting each other about the neck and ears and
rushing round in giddy circles on the tiny grass plot until, in response
to a call from the maid, they returned with her to the house. They were
foreigners evidently, these dogs! The squire could not remember the name
of the breed, but he thought he had seen one of the kind before in
London. He was not quite sure he approved of foreign dogs; they were not
so sporting or reliable as those of the English breeds; still, these
were handsome fellows, well kept and (from the green ribbons that
adorned their fluffy necks) evidently made much of. He was still looking
after the dogs when he was joined by the curate coming out of the
blacksmith's cottage opposite and stopping to light a match in the
shelter of the high wall of 'The Retreat.'

'First pipe I have had to-day,' said th