Lorimer obeyed, and for once, the light jest died upon his tips.
Surprise and admiration held him absolutely silent.




CHAPTER V.


"Elle filait et souriait--et je crois qn'elle enveloppa mon coeur
avec son fil."--Heine


Before them, close enough for their outstretched hands to have
touched it, was what appeared to be a framed picture, exquisitely
painted,--a picture perfect in outline matchless in color, faultless
in detail,--but which was in reality nothing but a large latticed
window thrown wide open to admit the air. They could now see
distinctly through the shadows cast by the stately pines, a long,
low, rambling house, built roughly, but strongly, of wooden rafters,
all overgrown with green and blossoming creepers; but they scarcely
glanced at the actual building, so strongly was their attention
riveted on the one window before them. It was surrounded by an
unusually broad framework, curiously and elaborately carved, and
black as polished ebony. Flowers grew all about it,--sweet peas,
mignonette, and large purple pansies--while red and white climbing
roses rioted in untrained profusion over its wide sill. Above it was
a quaintly built dovecote, where some of the strutting fan-tailed
inhabitants were perched, swelling out their snowy breasts, and