y felt they deserved, was intense. Lenox suddenly burst
into a flood of gentlemanly apologies. He explained rapidly that his
name was Clifford, that he had seen his father's coat of arms in the
church, and had been tempted to trespass in order to secure some
photographs of the house that was probably the old home of their family.
Mrs. Elliot listened till he had finished.

"I'd have given you permission if you had asked," she replied calmly.
"Now it's time that your sister--cousin, is she?--took off those wet
clothes, or she'll catch cold."

Diana marvelled at Mrs. Elliot's goodness. She was taken indoors, and
lent some garments while her own were dried. The household was an
earlier one than they had supposed, and in answer to the mistress's bell
came servants who were too well trained to express surprise in their
faces at the sight of a dripping visitor. An elderly maid showed Diana
to a bedroom, rubbed her hair for her with a towel, helped her into a
pink silk kimono dressing-gown, and brought her a cup of hot tea. These
precautions against cold having been taken, Mrs. Elliot most kindly
volunteered to show the young people over the house. It was a funny
little procession: the elderly lady with her cane; Lenox, in his khaki,
still blurting out apologies; and Diana trailing the pink kimono, which
was much too long, and shuffling in bronze-beaded shoes that were two
sizes too large. The glories of the old Manor left them gasping: the
big banqueting hall with its armour and tapestries, the panelled oak
boudoir, the library with its family portraits, the wide staircase, the
drawing-room with its cabinets and priceless china, the state bedroom
with the carved four-post bed where Queen Anne had slept, the courtyard
and dove-cote where pigeons were strutting and preening their feathers,
and the little chapel with its coats of arms in the stained glass, and
chained Bible. Through a window they could see the garden, with clipped
yew hedges and smooth lawn, and a peacock spreading its gorgeous tail to
the morning sun.

"If your great-grandfather went to America a hundred years ago you are
probably descended from either Guy, Charles, or Humphrey Clifford," said
Mrs. Elliot, showing Lenox a family genealogical tree that hung in the
hall.

"I know my great-grandfather's name was Humphrey," answered Lenox, "and
the dates would seem to correspond."

Diana's clothes were dried at last, and brushed. Even her hat, by the
aid of a