His eyes were eagerly searching the lawn and the well-trimmed garden, but he was denied a sight of his divinity.

The few people they encountered gazed at them curiously.
Hume was seemingly unrecognised.
"Here is Mrs.Eastham's house," he said, checking the horse's pace as they approached a roomy, comfortable-looking mansion, occupying an angle where the village street sharply bifurcated.

"And there is Beechcroft!" The lodge faced the road along which they were advancing.

Beyond the gates the yew-lined drive, with its selvages of deep green turf, led straight to the Elizabethan house a quarter of a mile distant.

The ground in the rear rose gently through a mile or more of the home park.
Immediately behind the Hall was a dense plantation of spruce and larch.
The man who planned the estate evidently possessed both taste and spirit.
It presented a beautiful and pleasing picture.