I had not far to go. Up a steep ascent, across a bridge, through some more iron gates, and I stood upon the open stretch of gravel in front of the main entrance, which was supported by four massive white stone pillars. A man-servant was waiting within the glass doors, which were promptly opened before me, and on telling him my name, I was led across the vast hall, which seemed to me, from its great height, the stained windows, and its size, like the interior of a richly decorated church, into the library. I had never been in such a room before, nor have I ever since, but the man gave me little time to admire it, for, opening the door of a small ante-room at its furthest extremity, which had a far more habitable appearance, he bade me wait whilst he informed Sir Francis of my arrival. The room seemed to open upon the gardens, for, though the Venetian blinds were drawn, I could hear distinctly the voices of two girls playing tennis just outside. "Love, love 15, love 30, love 40. Maud, you're a great deal too lazy for tennis this morning!" The girl's triumphant voice floated into the room so clearly that at first I was surprised. Then, by the gentle swaying to and fro of the blind, I saw that the window was open. The charge seemed not to be made without foundation, to judge from the languid drawl of the answering voice. "I believe I am, Olive. It really is too exhausting without some men to look after the balls. Suppose we have a rest for a minute or two." There was a laughing assent, and then I heard light footsteps coming towards the window. I thought at first that they were going to enter; but just outside they halted and seemed to subside into a seat. There was a moment's silence, during which I withdrew as far as possible from the window. But I was still within easy reach of their voices, as I very soon learnt, not a little to my discomfort. "I wonder what the new young man's like at the cottage. Have you seen him, Maud?" I started, and drew further back into my corner. "I really don't know," was the very uninterested reply. "By the bye, though, I did see a stranger in the park, yesterday. Perhaps it was he." "What was he like? Fancy not telling me, when you knew I was dying to hear. Is he tall or short, dark or fair?" A scornful inflection had crept into the languid drawl of the answering voice. But it was far from an unpleasant voice to listen to:--"I only saw him for a moment, but I remember that he was short, and had red hair, and wore glasses. I don't think even you would flirt with him, Olive." This was dreadful. I was six foot four, and my eyesight was keener than most men's. She must have mistaken some one else for me! But what was I to do? I tried a nervous little cough, but they took no notice. "Oh! I'm so disappointed. I had made up my mind that he was good-looking, and would do to flirt with, at any rate, until the shooting brings some men down. Goodness gracious, what was that?"