By this time we were seated in the waggonette, which Isabel informed me she had assured her father I should much prefer to a close carriage. "It is really not cold now," Isabel went on. "The evenings are getting quite long. And it is so nice, on coming to a new place, to know something of your surroundings at once, don't you think? In a brougham one sees nothing." I looked about me with the greatest interest. It was the "North Country" unmistakably. Wild and hilly, bare to some extent, though here and there we caught sight of short stretches of forest land, for during a great part of the drive to Millflowers the view was very extensive. But the aspect of things in general was not cold or repellent, even to my southern eyes, for I saw the country to advantage in the clear sweet light of a mild spring evening. "I think it is delicious," I said enthusiastically. And as after a time we came to a great stretch of moorland, I grew even more enthusiastic. "Oh how charming!" I exclaimed. "It seems so beautifully free and open--the air is so exquisitely fresh and scented--yes, is it not scented, Isabel?" "_I_ always fancy it is," she replied, "though it is too early in the year yet for the scent--the gorse! O Regina! you should see it when the gorse and heather are out!" "Yes," I agreed. "It must be lovely. But do tell me," I went on, for my thoughts in those days were very erratic, "shall we pass the Grim House on our way? And O Isabel! do tell me what has happened there! You alluded to something in your letter." A slight, the very slightest touch on my foot, and a glance at my friend's face checked me. I remembered that we were not alone, for Maple was in the waggonette with us, and I felt ashamed of my stupid indiscretion. "You mean Grimsthorpe?" said Isabel quietly. "No, we do not pass that way. Not that there is much to see if we did; it is a very ugly house, though an old one. Indeed the houses about here are rarely picturesque, though I think ours is pretty inside, and so is the vicarage. There are no other at all large houses near us. Millflowers, you know, is a very tiny village. Did I ever tell you what some people believe to be the origin of the name?" she added with a smile. But I could see that my questions had made her a little uncomfortable and that she was anxious to change the conversation. "No," I replied, feeling rather small. "I have wondered about it once or twice. It _is_ an odd name."