k makes me wish to see my nephew, and proud of him too. This
is a quiet house, but I think you would enjoy it; and it's a real
kindness to me to come. I am sure I shall like you, and I am not
without hopes that you may like me. You need not tie yourself down to
any dates; just come when you can, and go when you must."

Howard liked the simplicity of the letter, and determined to go down at
once. He started two days later. It was a fine spring day, and it was
pleasant to glide through the open country all quickening into green.
He arrived in the afternoon at the little wayside station. It was in
the south-east corner of Somersetshire, and Howard liked the look of
the landscape, the steep green downs, with their wooded dingles
breaking down into rich undulating plains, dappled with hedgerow trees
and traversed by gliding streams. He was met at the station by an
old-fashioned waggonette, with an elderly coachman, who said that Mrs.
Graves had hoped to come herself, but was not very well, and thought
that Mr. Kennedy would prefer an open carriage.

Howard was astonished at the charm of the whole countryside. They
passed through several hamlets, with beautiful old houses, built of a
soft orange stone, weathering to a silvery grey, with evidences of
careful and pretty design in their mullioned windows and arched
doorways. The churches, with their great richly carved towers, pierced
stone shutters, and clustered pinnacles, pleased him extremely, and he
liked the simple and courteous greetings of the people who passed them.
He had a sense, long unfamiliar to him, as though he were somehow
coming home. The road entered a green valley among the downs. To the
left, an outstanding bluff was crowned with the steep turfed bastions
of an ancient fort, and as they went in among the hills, the slopes
grew steeper, rich with hanging woods and copses, and the edges of the
high thickets were white with bleached flints. At last they passed into
a hamlet with a church, and a big vicarage among shrubberies; this was
Windlow Malzoy, the coachman said, and that was Mr. Sandys' house.
Howard saw a girl wandering about on the lawn--Jack's sister, he
supposed, but it was too far off for him to see her distinctly; five
minutes later they drove into Windlow. It lay at the very bottom of the
valley; a clear stream ran beneath the bridge. There were but half a
dozen cottages, and just ahead of them, abutting on the road, appeared
the front of a beaut