"Surely," he thought, "she does not imagine that--Oh, absurd!" He glanced sidewise, and then, man of the world as he was, he could not help a slight sensation of uneasy confusion coming over him as he noticed that Aunt Sophia seemed to have divined his thoughts, and to be reading him through and through. "This is a pretty place," she said, breaking a rather awkward silence. "As pretty a place as I ever saw," replied the doctor, jumping at the opportunity of speaking on a fresh subject. "It is much altered since I knew it as a child. James has done so much to improve it since he has been master." "You knew it well, when you were young, then?" "O yes; we lived at the next house, higher up the river," said Aunt Sophia softly; and there was a dreamy look in her eyes, while a pleasant smile, rarely enough seen, played about her lips as she spoke. "I was child, girl, and grew to middle age down here, Doctor Scales; I come back to the place, the grey, withered, old woman you see." "What an idiot I am!" thought the doctor. "I shall never understand her." They were walking on across the meadows, at the end of which was a gate, at which Aunt Sophia paused. "Will you give me your hand?" she said quietly. "I am not so active as I was." "I really don't understand her!" muttered the doctor, climbing the gate, which was nailed up, and then assisting the old lady over. It was an easy task, for in spite of her self-disparagement, Aunt Sophia's spareness made her very active, and, just holding by the doctor's hands for steadiness, she jumped lightly down and stood beside him in the lane. "Shall we go down to the river and round back to the house by the path?" "No," said Aunt Sophia quietly. "I want to go as far as the church." Jack Scales wondered more and more as they walked on along the shadowy lane to where the little ivy-covered church stood, with its ancient wall and lychgate, stones, and wood memorials sinking sidewise into the earth, and a general aspect everywhere of calm moss-grown decay. "Hah!" exclaimed the doctor, as he stood gazing at the lichen-covered stones, and the lights and shadows thrown upon the ruddy-tiled mossy roof. "I wish I were an artist. What a place to paint!" "Yes," said Aunt Sophia, standing with her hands clasped, gazing in a rapt dreamy way before her; "it is a beautiful old place." She moved to the gate, and held it open for him to pass through as well, pausing while he stopped to examine a wonderfully old yew-tree, about which a rough oaken seat had been placed, one that had been cut and marked by generations with initials. Then, as he turned, she went on again to the old south porch with its seat on either side, and through it into the church, which struck cool and moist as the doctor entered, taking off his hat and gazing about impressed by its ancient quaintness.