Yet I am but a dilettante, and do not follow this art at the base dictation of what men call necessity.' 'O indeed,' Somerset replied.
As soon as this business was disposed of, and Mr.Dare had brought up his van and assistant to begin operations, Somerset returned to the castle entrance.

While under the archway a man with a professional look drove up in a dog-cart and inquired if Miss Power were at home to-day.
'She has not yet returned, Mr.Havill,' was the reply.
Somerset, who had hoped to hear an affirmative by this time, thought that Miss Power was bent on disappointing him in the flesh, notwithstanding the interest she expressed in him by telegraph; and as it was now drawing towards the end of the afternoon, he walked off in the direction of his inn.
There were two or three ways to that spot, but the pleasantest was by passing through a rambling shrubbery, between whose bushes trickled a broad shallow brook, occasionally intercepted in its course by a transverse chain of old stones, evidently from the castle walls, which formed a miniature waterfall.

The walk lay along the river-brink.

Soon Somerset saw before him a circular summer-house formed of short sticks nailed to ornamental patterns.

Outside the structure, and immediately in the path, stood a man with a book in his hand; and it was presently apparent that this gentleman was holding a conversation with some person inside the pavilion, but the back of the building being towards Somerset, the second individual could not be seen.
The speaker at one moment glanced into the interior, and at another at the advancing form of the architect, whom, though distinctly enough beheld, the other scarcely appeared to heed in the absorbing interest of his own discourse.