"How vividly the sight of it brings back that wet and gloomy afternoon," she said, "when the carriage came to a halt at those very gates, and I sat staring out of the window, more tired than curious. So tired out, indeed, was I, that I felt utterly indifferent as to where I was being taken, or what was going to be done with me. It seems to me, however, that I have to thank the old griffin for a good deal. But for it we might not have been here to-day." After that they strolled along the grass-grown drive as far as a point whence they could obtain a view of the front of the Hall. Clem, on whose arm Hermia was leaning, felt her shiver involuntarily. "It gives me quite an eerie feeling to look at it, even by broad daylight," she said. "What it must look like when the shades of evening are closing round it, or by the dim light of a clouded moon, I dare scarcely imagine. I shall dream about it more than once in time to come." "Were I a story writer, and wanted to describe a haunted house, I should come to Broome," remarked Aunt Charlotte, sententiously. She also felt the influence of the place and scene. "It is a sort of feeling that would wear off upon further acquaintance," said Clem. "If, now, one could give a free hand to a London upholsterer, not forgetting the landscape-gardener, and if after they had done their best, one could fill the old house with a party of gay young people, with the addition of half-a-dozen romping children, what a transformation should we behold!" Hermia shook her head. "Broome as it appeals to the imagination, but Broome as Clem would have it would be----" "As commonplace as himself," interrupted the latter, with a laugh. "That was a spot of rain, we had better be getting back to the landau." Barney Dale reached the hotel about half-past five, and Clem, who was on the look-out for him, at once took him into the sitting-room where Hermia was awaiting his arrival. Then he left them together. Hermia advanced with a blush and a smile, and yet with a strange trembling of her limbs, and held out her hand. "I cannot express to you how happy it makes me to see you again, Mr. Dale," she said, in soft, emotional tones, which fell like music on the old man's ears. "Again! How again?" he asked, as he peered closely into her face. "When might you have seen me last, missy?" Then half-aloud, but evidently thinking himself unheard, "The likeness! the likeness! The same eyes and hair--the very marrow of the other!" "As far as my memory serves, I saw you last on the day you brought me to Broome," answered Hermia. "I had a long, long ride in a carriage with you and someone else--a woman. But come, let us sit, and then we can talk more comfortably." He loosed the hand he had been holding, and let her lead him to a sofa, where they sat down, side by side.