lf.
Benella suspects that he prefers this wandering to and fro to the more
monotonous task of weeding, and it is no uncommon thing for her to
pursue the recalcitrant page through the mazes and labyrinths for an
hour at a time, and perhaps lose herself in the end. Salemina and I were
sitting this morning in the Peacock Walk, where two trees clipped into
the shape of long-tailed birds mount guard over the box hedge, and put
their beaks together to form an arch. In the dim distance we could see
Benella 'bagging' the Button Boy, and, after putting the trowel and rake
in his reluctant hands, tying the free end of a ball of string to his
leg, and sending him to find and weed the pansy garden. We laughed until
the echoes rang, to see him depart, dragging his lengthening chain,
or his Ariadne thread, behind him, while Benella grimly held the ball,
determined that no excuses or apologies should interfere with his work
on this occasion.

Chapter XXVIII. Round towers and reflections.

'On Lough Neagh's banks, as the fisherman strays,
When the cool, calm eve's declining.
He sees the round towers of other days
Beneath the waters shining.'
Thomas Moore.

A Dublin car-driver told me one day that he had just taken a
picnic-party to the borders of a lake, where they had had tea in a
tramcar which had been placed there for such purposes. Francesca and I
were amused at the idea, but did not think of it again until we drove
through the La Touche estate, on one of the first days after our arrival
at Devorgilla. We left Salemina at Rosnaree House with Aunt La Touche
and the children, and proceeded to explore the grounds, with the view of
deciding on certain improvements to be made when the property passes, so
to speak, into our hands.

Truth to say, nature has done more for it than we could have done; and
if it is a trifle overgrown and rough and rank, it could hardly be
more beautiful. At the very furthest confines of the demesne there is a
brook,--large enough, indeed, to be called a river here, where they have
no Mississippi to dwarf all other streams and serve as an impossible
standard of comparison. Tall trees droop over the calm water, and on
its margins grow spearwort, opening its big yellow cups to the sunshine,
meadow rue, purple and yellow loosestrife, bog bean, and sweet flag.
Here and there float upon the surface the round leaves and delicate
white blossoms of the fr