But after a few casts she desisted, and took her rod to pieces slowly.

The afternoon was hot and sultry.

She sat down in the shadow of the balustrade and gazed at the long, blank facade of the house baking in the sun; at the tall, uncurtained windows; at the peacock stalking to and fro like a drowsy sentinel.
"You are a beast of a house," she said contemplatively; "and I hate every stone of you!" She stood up and strolled toward the stables.

The stable yard was empty but for the Gordon setter dozing by the pump-trough.
Across from the kitchens came the sound of the servants' voices chattering.

Honoria had never made friends with the servants.
She tilted her straw hat further over her eyes, and sauntered up the drive with her hands behind her; through the great gates and out upon the towans.