e it had not warped her judgment, however, for, a moment later
when she and I were alone, she said:

"Your cousin, Miss Cahoon, is a good housekeeper, I imagine."

"She is all of that," I said, decidedly.

"Yes, she was very particular concerning the kitchen and scullery and
the maids' rooms. Are all American housekeepers as particular?"

"Not all. Miss Cahoon is unique in many ways; but she is a remarkable
woman in all."

"Yes. I am sure of it. And she has such a typical American accent,
hasn't she."

We were to take possession on the following Monday. We lunched at the
"Red Cow," the village inn, where the meal was served in the parlor and
the landlord's daughter waited upon us. The plump black horse drew us to
the railway station, and we took the train for London.

We have learned, by this time, that second, or even third-class travel
was quite good enough for short journeys and that very few English
people paid for first-class compartments. We were fortunate enough to
have a second-class compartment to ourselves this time, and, when we
were seated, Hephzy asked a question.

"Did you think to speak about the golf, Hosy?" she said. "You will want
to play some, won't you?"

"Yes," said I. "I did ask about it. It seems that the golf course is a
private one, on the big estate we passed on the way from the station.
Permission is always given the rectory tenants."

"Oh! my gracious, isn't that grand! That estate isn't in Mayberry. The
Mayberry bounds--that's what Mrs. Cole called them--and just this
side. The estate is in the village of--of Burgleston Bogs. Burgleston
Bogs--it's a funny name. Seem's if I'd heard it before."

"You have," said I, in surprise. "Burgleston Bogs is where that
Heathcroft chap whom we met on the steamer visits occasionally. His aunt
has a big place there. By George! you don't suppose that estate belongs
to his aunt, do you?"

Hephzy gasped. "I wouldn't wonder," she cried. "I wouldn't wonder if it
did. And his aunt was Lady Somebody, wasn't she. Maybe you'll meet him
there. Goodness sakes! just think of your playin' golf with a Lady's
nephew."

"I doubt if we need to think of it," I observed. "Mr. Carleton
Heathcroft on board ship may be friendly with American plebeians, but on
shore, and when visiting his aunt, he may be quite different. I fancy he
and I will not play many holes together."

Hephzy laughed. "You 'fancy,'" she repeated. "You'll be sayin' 'My word'
next. My! Hosy,