to the grounds. All that the gardeners had done to make the place
attractive failed to claim his attention. He walked past lawns, shrubs,
and flower-beds, and only stopped at an old stone fountain, which
tradition declared to have been one of the ornaments of the garden
in the time of the monks. Having carefully examined this relic of
antiquity, he took a sheet of paper from his pocket, and consulted it
attentively. It might have been a plan of the house and grounds, or it
might not--I can only report that he took the path which led him, by the
shortest way, to the ruined Abbey church.

As he entered the roofless inclosure, he reverently removed his hat. It
was impossible for me to follow him any further, without exposing
myself to the risk of discovery. I sat down on one of the fallen stones,
waiting to see him again. It must have been at least half an hour before
he appeared. He thanked me for my kindness, as composedly as if he had
quite expected to find me in the place that I occupied.

"I have been deeply interested in all that I have seen," he said. "May I
venture to ask, what is perhaps an indiscreet question on the part of a
stranger?"

I ventured, on my side, to inquire what the question might be.

"Mr. Romayne is indeed fortunate," he resumed, "in the possession of
this beautiful place. He is a young man, I think?"

"Yes."

"Is he married?"