There was a charming lawn, there were clusters of trees, and there were perspective walks that I could just distinguish in the dark, arched over with trellis-work, on which shrubs and flowers grew in the growing season.

'Here Miss Spenlow walks by herself,' I thought.

'Dear me!' We went into the house, which was cheerfully lighted up, and into a hall where there were all sorts of hats, caps, great-coats, plaids, gloves, whips, and walking-sticks.

'Where is Miss Dora ?' said Mr.Spenlow to the servant.

'Dora!' I thought.