Oh, there is no need of looking at it now," as Malcolm craned his neck in his effort to see more of it;, "we can go over it any day we like.

Here we are at the Wood House," and Cedric drove in at an open gate.
Malcolm looked round in pleased surprise.

At that moment the house was not visible.

They seemed driving through a little wood--only the carriage road winding between the fir trees was beautifully kept.

Now and then there was an open glade, but the greater part was thickly fringed with heather, bracken, and whortleberry bushes.
The next moment Cedric turned a corner sharply, and a low gray house and a well-kept tennis lawn were before them.
"What a charming place!" exclaimed Malcolm.