elighted," said Lady Tatham, rather perfunctorily. "They are just in
their glory--they ought to be painted."

"Thank you so much!"--Lydia's tone was a little hurried--"but I have so
many subjects on hand just now."

"Oh, but nothing half so beautiful as that, Lydia!" cried her mother, "or
so uncommon. And they'll be over directly. If Lady Tatham would _really_
send the motor for you--"

Lydia murmured renewed thanks. Tatham, observing her, retreated, with a
laugh and a flush.

"I say, we mustn't bother you to paint what _we_ like. That would be too
bad."

Lydia smiled upon him.

"I'm so busy with a big view of the river and Threlfall."

"Threlfall? Oh, do you know--mother! do you know what's been happening at
Threlfall. Undershaw told me. The most marvellous thing!" He turned to
Mrs. Penfold. "You've heard the stories they tell about here of old
Melrose?"

Lydia laughed softly.

"Mother collects them!"

Mrs. Penfold confessed that, being a timid person, she went in fear,
sometimes of Mr. Melrose, sometimes of his bloodhounds. She did not like
passing the gate of Threlfall, and the high wall round the estate made
her shudder. Of course the person that put up that wall _must_ be mad.

"A queer sort of madman!" said Tatham, with a shrug. "They say he gets
richer every year in spite of the state of the property. And meanwhile no
human being, except himself or the Dixons, has ever slept in that house,
or taken bite or sup in it for at least twenty years. And as for his
behaviour to everybody round about--well, I can tell you all about that
whenever you want to know! However, now they've stormed him--they've
smoked him out like a wasp's nest. My goodness--he did buzz! Undershaw
found a man badly hurt, lying on the road by the bridge--bicycle
accident--run over too, I believe--and carried him into the Tower,
willy-nilly!" The speaker chuckled. "Melrose was away. Old Dixon said
they should only come in over his body--but was removed. Undershaw got
four labourers to help him, and, by George, they carried the man in! They
found the drawing-room downstairs empty, no furniture in it, or next to
none--turned it into a bedroom in no time. Undershaw telegraphed for a
couple of nurses--and when Melrose came home next day--_tableau_! There
was a jolly row! Undershaw enjoyed it. I'd have given anything in the
world to be there. And Melrose'll have to stick it out they say for weeks
and weeks--the fellow's so badly hurt--and