This was not a cheerful sight; it seemed so cruel to kill the great trees just as they were pushing their buds for another summer of life.

But he consoled himself by recalling that they had been too crowded and that the timber was really needed on the estate.

As he reached the house again carrying a bunch of white violets which he had plucked in a sheltered place for Barbara, he perceived a motor travelling at much more than the legal speed up the walnut avenue which was the pride of the place.

In it sat that young lady herself, and her maid, Snell, a middle-aged woman with whom, as it chanced, he was on very good terms, as once, at some trouble to himself, he had been able to do her a kindness.
The motor pulled up at the front door and out of it sprang Barbara, laughing pleasantly and looking fresh and charming as the spring itself.
"There will be a row over this, dear," said Alan, shaking his head doubtfully when at last they were alone together in the hall.
"Of course, there'll be a row," she answered.

"I mean that there should be a row.