Barren sun-dried patches, and little holes and crevices opened here and there by the action of the summer heat, announced that the lawn, like everything else at the farm, had been neglected, in the exclusive attention paid to the claims of the horses.

Reaching a shrubbery which bounded one side of the grounds next, her Ladyship became aware of a man slowly approaching her, to all appearance absorbed in thought.

The man drew a little nearer.

She lifted her glasses to her eyes and recognized--Moody.
No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected meeting.
Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to visit her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the terms on which they had separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had escaped her at their parting interview.

In the friendly talk which followed the reconciliation, Lady Lydiard not only heard the news of Moody's pecuniary inheritance--but, noticing the change in his appearance for the worse, contrived to extract from him the confession of his ill-starred passion for Isabel.