with old books on shelves and in cases, between which hung in
little black frames, mezzo tints, etchings, and antiquated maps.
A large table stood a few paces from the deep alcove of the
window, which was surrounded by a low, faded, green seat, and was
screened from the sunshine by wooden shutters. And here the
tranquil surge of falling water shook incessantly on the air, for
the three lower casements stood open to the fading sunset. On a
smaller table were spread cups, old earthenware dishes of
fruit, and a big bowl of damask roses.

'Please sit down; I shan't be a moment; I am not sure that my
sister is in; but if so, I will tell her we are ready for tea.'
Left to himself in this quiet, strange old room, Lawford forgot
for a while everything else, he was for the moment so
taken up with his surroundings.

What seized on his fancy and strangely affected his mind was this
incessant changing roar of falling water. It must be the Widder,
he said to himself, flowing close to the walls. But not until he
had had the boldness to lean head and shoulders out of the
nearest window did he fully realize how close indeed the Widder
was. It came sweeping dark and deep and begreened and full with
the early autumnal rains, actually against the lower walls of the
house itself, and in the middle suddenly swerved in a black,
smooth arch, and tumbled headlong into a great pool, nodding with
tall slender water-weeds, and charged in its bubbled blackness
here and there with the last crimson of the setting sun. To the
left of the house, where the waters floated free again, stood
vast, still trees above the clustering rushes; and in glimpses
between their spreading boughs lay the far-stretching