he came to a hedgerow where a row of very fine timber oaks had stood,
of which the Squire had been notoriously fond, and of which he had
himself taken particular and admiring notice in the course of the
previous winter. The trees were gone. In the hedge where they had
grown were a series of gaps like those in an old woman's jaw, and the
ground was still littered with remains of bark and branches and of
faggots that had been made up from the brushwood.

"Cut down this spring fell," was Mr. Quest's ejaculation. "Poor old
gentleman, he must have been pinched before he consented to part with
those oaks."

Then he turned and went back to the house, just in time to see Ida's
guests arriving for the lawn tennis party. Ida herself was standing on
the lawn behind the house, which, bordered as it was by the moat and
at the further end by a row of ruined arches, was one of the most
picturesque in the country and a very effective setting to any young
lady. As the people came they were shown through the house on to the
lawn, and here she was receiving them. She was dressed in a plain,
tight-fitting gown of blue flannel, which showed off her perfect
figure to great advantage, and a broad-brimmed hat, that shaded her
fine and dignified face. Mr. Quest sat down on a bench beneath the
shade of an arbutus, watching her closely, and indeed, if the study of
a perfect English lady of the noblest sort has any charms, he was not
without his reward. There are some women--most of us know one or two--
who are born to hold a great position and to sail across the world
like a swan through meaner fowl. It would be very hard to say to what
their peculiar charm and dignity is owing. It is not to beauty only,
for though they have presence, many of these women are not beautiful,
while some are even plain. Nor does it spring from native grace and