journey, and call for them as soon as they reached London, she'd have no
trouble,--"please remember the porter, ma'am!" However all was happily
settled at last; and without any serious inconveniences they found
themselves established in a first-class carriage, and presently after
running smoothly at full speed across the rich English midlands toward
London and the eastern coast.

The extreme greenness of the October landscape was what struck them
first, and the wonderfully orderly and trim aspect of the country, with
no ragged, stump-dotted fields or reaches of wild untended woods. Late
in October as it was, the hedgerows and meadows were still almost
summer-like in color, though the trees were leafless. The
delightful-looking old manor-houses and farm-houses, of which they had
glimpses now and again, were a constant pleasure to Katy, with their
mullioned windows, twisted chimney-stacks, porches of quaint build, and
thick-growing ivy. She contrasted them with the uncompromising ugliness
of farm-houses which she remembered at home, and wondered whether it
could be that at the end of another thousand years or so, America would
have picturesque buildings like these to show in addition to her
picturesque scenery.

Suddenly into the midst of these reflections there glanced a picture so
vivid that it almost took away her breath, as the train steamed past a
pack of hounds in full cry, followed by a galloping throng of
scarlet-coated huntsmen. One horse and rider were in the air, going over
a wall. Another was just rising to the leap. A string of others, headed
by a lady, were tearing across a meadow bounded by a little brook, and
beyond that streamed the hounds following the invisible fox. It was like
one of Muybridge's instantaneous photographs of "The Horse in Motion,"
for the moment that it lasted; and Katy put it away in her memory,