I said little to him as we rode along. He asked for my address,
when I left him, and gave me the comforting assurance that he would
see me again. I made no answer, leaving him at a turn where, north
of us, I could see the white houses of Wrentham. Kingston was hard
by, its fort crowning a hill-top by the river.

It was past three by a tower clock at the gate of the Weirs when I
got there. A driveway through tall oaks led to the mansion of dark
stone. Many acres of park and field and garden were shut in with
high walls. I rang a bell at the small gate, and some fellow in
livery took my message.

"Wait 'ere, my lass," said he, with an English accent. "I 'll go
at once to the secretary."

I sat in a rustic chair by the gate-side, waiting for that
functionary.

"Ah, come in, come in," said he, coolly, as he opened the gate a
little.

He said nothing more, and I followed him--an oldish man with gray
eyes and hair and side-whiskers, and neatly dressed, his head
covered to the ears with a high hat, tilted backward. We took a
stone path, and soon entered a rear door.

"She may sit in the servants' hall," said he to one of the maids,

They took my shawl, as he went away, and showed me to a room where,
evidently, the servants did their eating. They were inquisitive,