and chancel arch of a
chapel. Mr. Van Torp drew rein before it, threw his right leg over the
pommel before him, and remained sitting sideways on the saddle, for
the very good reason that he did not see anything to sit on if he got
down, and that it was of no use to waste energy in standing. His horse
might have resented such behaviour on the part of any one else, but
accepted the western rider's eccentricities quite calmly and proceeded
to crop the damp young grass at his feet.

Mr. Van Torp had come to meet Lady Maud. The place was lonely and
conveniently situated, being about half-way between Oxley Paddox and
Craythew, on Mr. Van Torp's land, which was so thoroughly protected
against trespassers and reporters by wire fences and special watchmen
that there was little danger of any one getting within the guarded
boundary. On the side towards Craythew there was a gate with a patent
lock, to which Lady Maud had a key.

Mr. Van Torp was at the meeting-place at least a quarter of an hour
before the appointed time. His horse only moved a short step every now
and then, eating his way slowly across the grass, and his rider sat
sideways, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at nothing
particular, with that perfectly wooden expression of his which
indicated profound thought.

But his senses were acutely awake, and he caught the distant sound of
hoofs on the soft woodland path just a second before his horse lifted
his head and pricked his ears. Mr. Van Torp did not slip to the
ground, however, and he hardly changed his position. Half a dozen
young pheasants hurled themselves noisily out of the wood on the other
side of the ruin, and scattered again as they saw him, to perch on
the higher boughs of the trees not far off instead of settling on
the sward. A moment later Lady Maud appeared, on a lanky and elderly
thoroughbred that had been her own long before her marriage. Her
old-fashioned habit was evidently of the same period too; it had been
made before the modern age of skirted coats, and fitted her figure in
a way that would have excited open disapproval and secret admiration
in Rotten Row. But she never rode in town, so that it did not matter;
and, besides, Lady Maud did not care.

Mr. Van Torp raised his hat in a very un-English way, and at the same
time, apparently out of respect for his friend, he went so far as to
change his seat a little by laying his right knee over the pommel and
sticking his left foot into