"Come and look at them." "Now ?" "Yes, we 'll walk home.

We 'll settle the question." He passed his hand through Rowland's arm and they retraced their steps.
They reached the town and made their way along a broad country street, dusky with the shade of magnificent elms.

Rowland felt his companion's arm trembling in his own.

They stopped at a large white house, flanked with melancholy hemlocks, and passed through a little front garden, paved with moss-coated bricks and ornamented with parterres bordered with high box hedges.

The mansion had an air of antiquated dignity, but it had seen its best days, and evidently sheltered a shrunken household.
Mrs.Hudson, Rowland was sure, might be seen in the garden of a morning, in a white apron and a pair of old gloves, engaged in frugal horticulture.