"Then I promise not to mention the matter to Mr. George." "All right. I'll tell Hunter to draw up a deed of gift. Of course you understand it would be useless telling George, as he cannot recover the vases or make any claim against me?" "Then why are you clearing out of the country?" "The soil of Tasmania is said to be ideal for--" "Fugitives from justice," finished Nellie. "Emmie, my darling," said Percy, a few minutes after this interview, "I feel quite certain there is something wrong with the drains. I shall tell aunt we are leaving in the morning." "Percy is so wonderfully unselfish," said Miss Yard to Nellie that evening. "He has made me a present of all the furniture; and tomorrow he is going to find me a new home." CHAPTER XV A NEW HOUSE AND THE SAME OLD FURNITURE Miss Yard became uncontrollable, almost dangerous, when Percy wrote informing her he had discovered a house situated upon high ground, quite fifty feet above the meadows through which the Drivel percolated. The garden soil was a singularly fertile gravel; the view, which was monotonous, consisting chiefly of mole heaps, was fortunately blotted out by lichened apple trees; while the principal reception room had been designed, in his opinion, with a view to knitting parties; and a retired Archdeacon had quite recently passed away in the best bedroom. The old lady craved for Drivelford delights every hour of the day. She escaped constantly from the garden to begin the first of the hundred miles which separated her from such a respectable abode. When imprisoned in the parlour, she wrote a quantity of letters to old friends, most of whom had travelled far outside the radius of the postal union, inviting them to her first tea party at the Lodge, Drivelford. The name of the house was really Wistaria Lodge; but Percy had recommended the shorter form as less of a committal. "Percy must live with us; he will enjoy the river. Don't you remember the gentlemen, in long coats and round hats, who used to sit all day smoking and tasting something out of jars? Percy would like that," she said merrily. "Mr. Taverner is now a married man, and by this time he is a thousand miles away. I suppose you are referring to Mr. George," said Nellie. "Of course I mean George. Why don't you listen, child? He can sit by the river with the rest of the gentlemen. He can hand round the cakes, and talk to the ladies. Give nice things, and say nice things. I wonder if somebody told me that, or whether I invented it. I used to be clever once; twenty years ago I could have told you what Wistaria meant." "It's a creeper," explained Nellie. "But Mr. Taverner as good as says there isn't one." "I'm glad of that. I do not like creeping things. Now I'm going to write to George. My memory is wonderfully good today, and yet I cannot remember the name of the lady he married."