ted. "This lady did not seek
our company, but it may interest her to know that she is the first woman
who has crossed the threshold of Peak Hall for a matter of six years."

Louise looked from one to the other, half incredulously.

"Do you really mean it? Is that literally true?" she asked John.

"Absolutely," the young man assured her; "but please remember that you
are none the less heartily welcome here. We have few women neighbors,
and intercourse with them seems to have slipped out of our lives. Tell
me, how far have you come to-day, and where did you hope to sleep
to-night?"

Louise hesitated for a moment. For some reason or other, the question
seemed to bring with it some unexpected and disturbing thought.

"I was motoring from Edinburgh. As regards to-night, I had not made up
my mind. I rather hoped to reach Kendal. My journey is not at all an
interesting matter to talk about," she went on. "Tell me about your life
here. It sounds most delightfully pastoral. Do you really mean that you
produce nearly everything yourselves? Your honey and preserves and bread
and butter, for instance--are they all home-made?"

"And our hams," the young man laughed, "and everything else upon the
table. You underestimate the potentiality of male labor. Jennings is
certainly a better cook than the average woman. Everything you see was
cooked by him. We have a sort of secondary kitchen, though, down at the
bailiff's, where the preserves are made and some of the other things."

"And you live here all the year round?" she asked.

"My brother," John told her, "has not been further away than the nearest
market-town for nearly twenty years."

Her eyes grew round with astonishment.

"But you go to London sometimes?"

"I was there eight years ago. Since then I have not been further away
than Carlisle or Kendal. I go into the camp near Kendal for three weeks
every year--Territorial training, you know."

"But how do you pass your time? What do you do with yourself?" she
asked.

"Farm," he answered. "Farming is our daily occupation. Then for
amusement we hunt, shoot, and fish. The seasons pass before we know it."

She looked appraisingly at John Strangewey. Notwithstanding his
sun-tanned cheeks and the splendid vigor of his form, there was nothing
in the least agricultural about his manner or his appearance. There was
humor as well as intelligence in his clear, gray eyes. She opined that
the books which lined one side of the room