branch above the girl's head as she drove under it. The little horse
tossed the limbs right and left as he burrowed his way amongst them.

"Wait until you know us better," said Dorothy, dodging a hemlock
bough; "you might even come to think that several other improvements
could be made beside the trimming out of this avenue; but Ah Ben
would as soon cut off his head as disturb a single twig."

"Who?" inquired Paul.

"Ah Ben."

Mr. Henley concluded not to push his investigations any further for
the present, taking refuge in the thought that all things come to him
who waits. He had no doubt that Ah Ben would come along with the
rest.

A sudden turn, and an old house stood before them. It was built of
black stones, rough as when dug from the ground more than a century
before. At the farther end was a tower with an open belfry, choked in
a tangle of vines and bushes, within which the bell was dimly visible
through a crust of spiders' webs and birds' nests. Patches of moss
and vegetable mold relieved the blackness of the stones, and a
venerable ivy plant clung like a rotten fish-net to the wall. It was
a weird, yet fascinating picture; for the house, like a rocky cliff,
looked as if it had grown where it stood. Parts of the building were
crumbling, and decay had laid its hand more or less heavily upon the
greater part of the structure. All this in the mellow light of the
moon, and under the peculiar circumstances, made a scene which was
deeply impressive.