From the further end of this farm-yard a magnificent avenue of elms stretched across the home pasture down to a hedge which crossed it at the bottom.

That there had been a road through the rows of trees,--or, in other words, that there had in truth been an avenue to the house on that side,--was, of course, certain.

But now there was no vestige of such road, and the front entrance to Plaistow Hall was by a little path across the garden from a modern road which had been made to run cruelly near to the house.
Such was Plaistow Hall, and such was its mistress.

Of the master, the reader, I hope, already knows so much as to need no further description.
As Belton drove himself home from the railway station late on that August night, he made up his mind that he would tell his sister all his story about Clara Amedroz.

She had ever wished that he should marry, and now he had made his attempt.