r, thereby missing, to Toni's great content, three or four
callers who had come to see what manner of woman Owen Rose had married.
That these calls must be returned Toni knew very well; but it must be
confessed she shivered at the prospect; more especially as Owen had told
her, laughingly, that she must not count upon his aid on those purely
social occasions.

As the thought of the terrible duty-calls flashed through her mind Toni
slipped down from her perch on the balustrade and made her way down to
the towing path beneath. She often walked beside the river in these
quiet morning hours, alone unless her dog Jock, an Airedale terrier of
unimpeachable ancestry and cheerful disposition, was at hand to
accompany her.

Jock had been presented to her by Barry as a wedding gift; and Toni, who
had never before been on an intimate footing with a dog, found his
companionship both delightful and stimulating. Although he was nearly
two years old Jock was a puppy at heart. He did his best to comport
himself as a full-grown dog should do: but had lapses into babyhood,
when a shoe carelessly left about seemed too tempting; or, after a muddy
walk, a soft satin cushion gave him an invitation to repose which could
not possibly be denied.

He was a lovable creature, however, and a perfect gentleman as regards
cats--a very desirable trait in an animal belonging to Toni, who loved
all cats and would certainly have quarrelled with any dog who waged war
upon the furry tribe.

To her satisfaction Jock came bounding over the terrace to follow her as
she stepped on to the towing path; and together they strolled by the
river in the fresh morning air, Toni gazing half-absently towards the
distant hills, Jock keeping one eye and ear anxiously cocked in
anticipation of any unwary rat who should show himself upon the
river-bank.

Although Willowhurst was comparatively far from town there were a good
many visitors on the river during the summer months. There was a perfect
reach for punting just here, and many people came down to occupy the
bungalows built on the opposite bank to that on which Greenriver stood.
To Owen these little summer dwellings were in the nature of an eyesore.
Fond as he was of his own beautiful house he would have liked to keep
the neighbourhood free from this essentially modern phase of river-life;
but to Toni the gay little bungalows had a charm of their own. They were
all specially spick and span just now, having been n