"'Like a little sugar figure on a wedding-cake, looking sweet, and smiling pleasant!'" thought Walden, humorously recalling his gardener's description; "Scarcely that! She has a will of her own, and--possibly--a temper! A kind of spoilt child-woman, I should imagine; just the person to wear all the fripperies Mrs. Spruce was so anxious about the other day, and quite frivolous enough to squeeze her feet into shoes a couple of sizes too small for her. Beautiful? No,--her features are not regular enough for actual beauty. Pretty? Well,--perhaps she is!--in a certain sense,--but I'm no judge. Fascinating? Possibly she might be--to some men. She certainly has a sweet voice, and a very charming manner. And I don't think she is likely to be disagreeable or discourteous. But there is nothing remarkable about her--she's just a woman--with a bright smile,--and a touch of American vivacity running through her English insularity. Just a woman--with a way!" And he strode on, his terrier trotting soberly at his heels. But he was on the whole glad he had met the lady of the Manor, because now he no longer felt any uneasiness concerning her. His curiosity was satisfied,--his instinctive dislike of her had changed to a kindly toleration, and his somewhat morbid interest in her arrival had quite abated. The 'Five Sisters' were saved--that was a good thing; and as for Miss Vancourt herself,--well!--she was evidently a harmless creature who would most likely play tennis and croquet all day and take very little interest in anything except herself. "She will not interfere with me, nor I with her," said Walden with a sigh of satisfaction and relief; "And though we live in the same village, we shall be as far apart as the poles,--which is a great comfort'" XI Meanwhile, Maryllia cantered home through the woods in complacent and lively humour. The first few hours of her return to the home of her forefathers had certainly not been lacking in interest and excitement. She had heard and granted a village appeal,--she had stopped an act of vandalism,--she had saved five of the noblest trees in England,--she had conquered the hearts of several village yokels,--she had thrust a tyrant out of office,--she had been cursed by the said tyrant, a circumstance which was, to say the very least of it, quite new to her experience and almost dramatic,--and,--she had 'made eyes' at a parson! Surely this was enough adventure for one morning, especially as it was not yet eight o'clock. The whole day had yet to come; possibly she might be involved later on in still more thrilling and sensational episodes,--who could tell! She carolled a song for pure gaiety of heart, and told the rustling leaves and opening flowers in very charmingly pronounced French that "Votre coeur a beau se defendre De s'enflammer,--Le moment vient, il faut se rendre, Il faut aimer!"