a sleepy heat reigned over the valley with
its winding stream, and veiled the distant hills. Meadows's companion,
Ralph Barrow, a young novelist of promise, had gone fast asleep on the
grass; Meadows was drowsing over his book; the dogs slept on the terrace
steps; and in the summer silence the murmur of the river far below stole
up the hill on which the house stood, and its soft song held the air.

Suddenly there was a disturbance. The dogs sprang up and barked. There
was a firm step on the gravel. Lady Dunstable, stick in hand, her short
leather-bound skirt showing boots and gaiters of the most business-like
description, came quickly towards the seat on which Meadows sat.

"Mr. Meadows, I summon you for a walk! Sir Luke and Mr. Frome are
coming. We propose to get to the tarn and back before lunch."

The tarn was at least two miles away, a stiff climb over difficult moor.
Meadows, startled from something very near sleep, looked up, and a
spirit of revolt seized upon him, provoked by the masterful tone and
eyes of the lady.

"Very sorry, Lady Dunstable!--but I must write some letters before
luncheon."

"Oh no!--put them off! I have been thinking of what you told me
yesterday of your scheme for your new set of lectures. I have a great
deal to say to you about it."

"I really shouldn't be worth talking to now," laughed Meadows; "this
heat has made me so sleepy. To-night--or after tea--by all means!"

Lady Dunstable looked annoyed.

"I am expecting the Duke's party at tea," she said peremptorily. "This
will be my only chance to-day."

"Then let's put it off--till to-morrow!" said Meadows, as he rose, still
smiling. "It is most kind of you, but I really must write my letters,
and my brains are pulp. But I will escort you through the garden, if I
may."

His hostess turned sharply, and walked back towards the front of the
house where Sir Luke and Mr. Frome, a young and rising Under-Secretary,
were waiting for her. Meadows accompanied her, but found her exceedingly
ungracious. She did, however, inform him, as they followed the other two
towards the exit from the garden, that she had come to the conclusion
that the subject he was proposing for his second series of lectures, to
be given at Dunstable House during the winter, "would never do."

"Famous Controversies of the Nineteenth Century--political and
religious." The very sound of it was enough to keep people away! "What
people expect from you is talk about _perso