golden buttercups mixed with wild hyacinths and graceful blue-bells. We
drove for some few minutes over this carpet, and then the old gray
manor-house stood before us, the prettiest picture ever seen on a
summer's day. The whole front of the house was covered with flowers, and
the ivy grew green and thick; it climbed to the very top of the towers.

"Famous ivy," said Lance. "People come to Dutton to look at the ivy."

"I do not wonder at it," I said.

I was somewhat surprised at the style o the house. I had not expected
anything so grand, so beautiful.

"We shall have time for a cigar and a stroll before dinner," said Lance,
as he threw the reins to the groom; "but you must see Frances first,
John--you must see her."

But one of the servants told us that Mrs. Fleming was in the
drawing-room, engaged with Lady Ledbitter. Lance's face fell.

"You do not seem to care for Lady Ledbitter," I said to him.

"In truth I do not; she is a county magnate, and a local horror I call
her. She leads all the ladies of the country; they are frightened to
death of her; they frown when she frowns, smile when she smiles. I
begged of Frances not to fall under her sway, but I have begged in vain,
no doubt. If she has been there for half and hour Frances will have
given in."

He turned on me suddenly, so suddenly, indeed, that he almost startled