“Is this Holmwood House?” asked Morris of the old and grey man who came out of the porter’s lodge. “Yes, sir, it be,” replied the man. “Are visitors permitted to see the house and the grounds?” “No, they be’ant,” was the answer. “Visitors were allowed on Saturdays in the old Squire’s time, but since he died they tell me the estate is in the courts, and we have orders from the London lawyers to let nobody in.” “I can make it worth your while,” said George, feeling in his vest pocket; “this lady would like to see the house.” The old man shook his head, even although George showed him a gold piece between his finger and thumb. Morris was astonished at this, for he had the mistaken belief which all Americans have, that a tip in Europe, if it is only large enough, will accomplish anything. “I think perhaps I can get permission,” said Katherine, “if you will let me talk a while to the old man.” “All right. Go ahead,” said George. “I believe you could wheedle anybody into doing what he shouldn’t do.” “Now, after saying that, I shall not allow you to listen. I shall step down and talk with him a moment and you can drive on for a little distance, and come back.” “Oh, that’s all right,” said George, “I know how it is. You don’t want to give away the secret of your power. Be careful, now, in stepping down. This is not an American buggy,” but before he had finished the warning, Katherine had jumped lightly on the gravel, and stood waiting for him to drive on. When he came back he found the iron gates open. “I shall not get in again,” she said. “You may leave the pony with this man, George, he will take care of it. We can walk up the avenue to the house.” After a short walk under the spreading old oaks they came in sight of the house, which was of red brick and of the Elizabethan style of architecture. “I am rather disappointed with that,” said George, “I always thought old English homesteads were of stone.” “Well, this one at least is of brick, and I imagine you will find a great many of them are of the same material.” They met with further opposition from the housekeeper who came to the door which the servant had opened after the bell was rung. She would allow nobody in the house, she said. As for Giles, if he allowed people on the grounds that was his own look-out, but she had been forbidden by the lawyers to allow anybody in the house, and she had let nobody in, and she wasn’t going to let anybody in. “Shall I offer her a tip?” asked George, in a whisper. “No, don’t do that.” “You can’t wheedle her like you did the old man, you know. A woman may do a great deal with a man, but when she meets another woman she meets her match. You women know each other, you know.” Meanwhile the housekeeper, who had been about to shut the door, seemed to pause and regard the young lady with a good deal of curiosity. Her attention had before that time been taken up with the gentleman.