ide, and the butler very, very
gently pressing her forward the other, they persuaded, or rather they
moved Amaryllis onward.

She glanced back, her heart beat quick, she had half a mind to break
loose--easy enough to over-turn the two old fogies--but--how soon "but"
comes, "but" came to Amaryllis at sixteen. She remembered her father.
She remembered her mother's worn-out boots. By yielding yet a little
further she could perhaps contrive to keep her grandfather in good
humour and open the way to a reconciliation.

So the revolutionary Amaryllis, the red-hot republican blood seething
like molten metal in her veins, stepped across the hated threshold of
the ancient and mediaeval Pamments.

But we have all heard about taking the horse to water and finding that
he would not drink. If you cannot even make a horse, do you think you
are likely to _make_ a woman do anything?

Amaryllis walked beside her grandfather quietly enough now, but she
would not see or hear; he pointed out to her the old armour, the marble,
the old oak; he mumbled on of the staircase where John Pamment, temp.
Hen. VII., was seized for high treason; she kept her glance steadfastly
on the ground.

Iden construed it to be veneration, and was yet more highly pleased.

Raleigh had taste enough to receive them in another room, not the
whiskey-room; he met old Iden literally with open arms, taking both the
old gentleman's hands in his he shook them till Iden tottered, and tears
came into his eyes.

Amaryllis scarcely touched his fingers, and would not raise her glance.

"Raw," thought Freddie, who being tall looked over Raleigh's shoulder.
"Very raw piece."

To some young gentlemen a girl is a "piece."

"My granddaughter," said Iden, getting his voice.

"Ah, yes; like to see the galleries--fond of pictures----"

Amaryllis was silent.

"Answer," said Grandfather Iden graciously, as much as to say, "you
may."

"No," said Amaryllis.

"Hum--let's see--books--library--carvings. Come, Mr. Iden, you know the
place better than I do, you're an antiquarian and a scholar--I've
forgotten my Greek. What would you like to show her?"

"She _is_ fond of pictures," said Iden, greatly flattered that he should
be thought to know the house better than the heir. "She is fond of
pictures; she's shy."

Amaryllis' face became a dark red. The rushing blood seemed to stifle
her. She could have cried out aloud; her pride only checked her
utterance.

Raleigh, not n