He went. The wind was blowing from the pine woods, the lilac and laburnum were all in flower, the mavis was singing in the trees, all nature was gay and smiling. His heart went back, with a dreary, discontented sigh to the thought of Clarice in her grave, shut out forever from all the fair loveliness of earth and sky. The grounds about the Dower House were very pleasant. He thought to himself as he walked through them that one might be very happy there. He was shown into a cool, shady, fragrant parlor, where the vases were filled with great boughs of laburnums and plumes of lilac; there an elderly lady was seated, who rose at his approach, and bowed to him. “Mrs. Payton, I believe,” he said. She looked in his face with a frank smile. “Oh, no,” she replied. “I am Mrs. Payton’s representative. I know of no better word.” He smiled, too, at her frank simplicity. “I have the honor to be Mrs. Payton’s landlord,” he continued, “and she wrote to me respecting a bay window she wished to add to the drawing-room.” Again she glanced at him with the kindliest smile. “And I hope, Mr. Eyrle,” she said, “you are going to be good-natured and let her have it. When one looks at nothing but trees and flowers it is hardly possible to have enough of them.” “Mrs. Payton may alter every window in the house if she chooses,” he said, earnestly. “I have but one hope, and that is that she will make the Dower House comfortable for herself.” “That is kind, for the chances are that she will never leave it,” said Miss Hansen, with a deep-drawn sigh, and then there fell upon them a most uncomfortable silence. Mr. Eyrle was the first to break it. “Is Mrs. Payton an invalid?” he asked. “No; oh, no! I do not know that she has ever had a day’s ill-health.” “Then, if she pleases, I will see her,” he continued, and Miss Hansen looked at him quite aghast. “See Mrs. Payton?” she repeated. “She never sees any one, Mr. Eyrle. I live with her to save her from that kind of thing. If you are going to be very kind over the windows, could you not transact the business with me?” But a sudden determination had come over Mr. Eyrle. He would see the mysterious tenant who cared for nothing but trees and flowers. He looked at Miss Hansen with a good-natured smile. “I think,” he said, “that I shall prefer seeing the lady herself.” He was amused at the smile that brightened the honest, fearless eyes looking at him. “I am sure if you ask I shall not be denied.” “Well, I will ask; but if you do obtain an interview it will be the first granted to either stranger or friend.” And the little lady rolled up her knitting and walked slowly out of the room. CHAPTER XXXV. A MYSTERIOUS LADY.