‘You shall ride to your heart’s content,’ answered Tor, laughing; ‘so will I, when I have got a horse that will carry me. Is this the bell? How astonished the household will be at such untimely visitors.’ The door was opened by a footman in sombre livery, and an ancient-looking butler stood in the background, gazing inquisitively at his visitors. ‘I have brought Mr. Debenham here, Walters,’ said Maud, advancing into the dim, vast hall. ‘We have walked across the park to see the house by moonlight.’ Tor spoke pleasantly to the old servant, and followed his sister into the fine old rooms which were for the present, at least, to be his headquarters. They looked dim and vast in the uncertain light, the shadows very black, and the colours indistinct and ghostly. They could get no adequate light to see the place then, nor did they wish. They were content to rove about the great moonlit rooms, which were not so dark but that they could see how rich were the decorations, and how costly and magnificent was every fitting, picture, or article of furniture. It was but a cursory visit they paid that night, yet Tor came away with the impression that Phil had come into a very fine property, and that his house was almost worthy the name of a palace. They walked back quickly through the shadowy park, whilst Maud described to him the beauty of parts he had not seen: the hot-houses, and the great conservatory, and the stable premises, where it was said half a hundred horses had been stabled in olden times, when there was need. ‘If we should not make ourselves too late,’ she said, ‘we would go round by the Lady’s Well, down in a hollow of the park there. It is so pretty, all overgrown with moss and ferns; and the dell is a sweet place. It is a magic well, you know; and if we go at the right time we can have a magic wish. Some day I’ll take you there, and we will have our wishes—though, now that you’ve come back, there doesn’t seem anything left to wish for.’ She slipped her arm within his, and turned her bright face up to him. ‘Kiss me, Phil! You’re not a bit demonstrative; I suppose men aren’t—_real_ men, who aren’t namby-pamby like Lewis; but you’ve not kissed me once, except before them all, when you first came. Kiss me now, in the wood here. I feel as if I should like to hug you!’ Tor, however, evaded any hugging. He bent his head and kissed her quietly, and with a smile that seemed to make up for any more open demonstration; then, feeling the position a little difficult, he hurried her home. Maud’s kisses he found dangerously sweet. He had not realized how sweet they might be. He was not an impressionable man; not what is commonly called a ‘woman’s man,’ and it had never occurred to him that he might be seriously bewitched by Phil’s sister.