You shall take me to a backwater
after dinner, Sir Timothy. I shall wear my silver-grey and take
an armful of those black cushions from the drawing-room. In that
half light, there is no telling what success I may not achieve."
Sir Timothy sighed.
"Alas!" he said, "before dinner is over you will probably have
changed your mind."
"Perhaps so," she admitted, "but you must remember that Mr.
Ledsam is my only alternative, and I am not at all sure that he
likes me. I am not sufficiently Victorian for his taste."
The dressing-bell rang. Sir Timothy passed his arm through
Francis'.
"The sentimental side of my domain;" he said, "the others may
show you. My rose garden across the stream has been very much
admired. I am now going to give you a glimpse of The Walled
House, an edifice the possession of which has made me more or
less famous."
He led the way through a little shrubbery, across a further strip
of garden and through a door in a high wall, which he opened with
a key attached to his watch-chain. They were in an open park
now, studded with magnificent trees, in the further corner of
which stood an imposing mansion, with a great domed roof in the
centre, and broad stone terraces, one of which led down to the
river. The house itself was an amazingly blended mixture of old
and new, with great wings supported by pillars thrown out on
either side.
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