really does think. He admires Gladstone, and Gladstone says he can't do
without him.'

They had now passed the lodge-gates, and were driving through the park.
Herds of fallow deer moved away, but the broad bluff forms of the red
deer gazed steadfastly as lions from the crest of a hill.

'Did you ever meet Lady Dungory, mamma?' asked Alice. 'Is she dead?'

'No, dear, she is not dead; but it would be better, perhaps, if she
were. She behaved very badly. Lord Dungory had to get a separation. No
one ever speaks of her now. Mind, you are warned!'

At this moment the carriage stopped before a modern house, built between
two massive Irish towers entirely covered with huge ivy.

'I am afraid we are a little late,' said Mrs. Barton to the servant, as
he relieved them of their _sorties de bal_.

'Eight o'clock has just struck, ma'am.'

'The two old things will make faces at us, I know,' murmured Mrs.
Barton, as she ascended the steps.

On either side there were cases of stuffed birds; a fox lay in wait for
a pheasant on the right; an otter devoured a trout on the left. These
attested the sporting tastes of a former generation. The white marble
statues of nymphs sleeping in the shadows of the different landings and
the Oriental draperies with which each cabinet was hung suggested the
dilettantism of the present owner.