"Oh," said Gentian quickly; "then she's been over the house with you?" "She's known this house all her life," Thorold responded. Gentian said no more, but her quick eyes were taking everything in. She liked the old-fashioned kitchen and dairies; there were two rooms on each side of the front door, and a third sitting-room in a side wing. Upstairs there were five good-sized bedrooms and some attics. Gentian danced in and out of the empty rooms in her light-hearted fashion; she loved the oak panelling in the dining-room, and the deep window recesses. Mrs. Wharnecliffe signified her approval of the house as a whole. "A man won't find it lonely," she said, "but if you were bringing a wife here, I shouldn't be so content, for I think she would get the blues. Have you no neighbours?" "Oh yes, within driving distance. Do you think it gloomy?" He turned to Gentian. "Now it is empty it is, but it won't be when it is furnished," said Gentian, looking about her with dreamy eyes. "I can see it with wood fires and thick curtains, and music, and books, and flowers." Then she laughed. "And you in it, Cousin Thor, moving about in your serene, cheerful way, never ruffled if the soot fell down the chimney and the water-pipes leaked and the fires smoked. Are you going to keep a car?" "No, I'm thinking of a horse." "And a man and his wife to look after you," said Mrs. Wharnecliffe. "Thorold, I am afraid you will be buried alive here." He smiled and shook his head. "I have too many people to consider and to help." "Now let us come to your repairs," said Mrs. Wharnecliffe. "Of course, you must cut down your creepers, and one or two trees that are too close to the house, and the shrubberies want cutting back. I should put a south window in the biggest sitting-room which faces west, then you'll get plenty of sunshine." She went through the rooms again, discussing many possible improvements. Gentian left them and wandered round the neglected garden. She followed a little path through the shrubbery which led her to a rising knoll on which was a seat looking seawards. She sat down and lapsed into day dreams. "I must be getting very old," she mused; "I feel as if I want to settle down somewhere and stay there. I don't want to career about the world any more. How peaceful it is here!" A thrush was singing in the bushes close to her; there was a sweet scent of syringa which was not far away; and as she raised her head she heard a lark singing in the cornfields. A moment after steps approached her. It was Thorold. "I have tracked you at last," he said. "Mrs. Wharnecliffe is on her way back to the inn; I told her we would follow. What do you think of the view from here?" "I think it is heavenly." He sat down on the seat beside her.