It was a grey, windy morning, with low clouds scurrying across the meadows. The house was raised well above flood level, and standing on the top step she could see how far the meadows stretched beyond the swaying willow hedge. Grey sky, grey water, green fields,--it was all grey and green except the house, which was red brick with handsome stone facings, and made, in its exposed position unhidden by any trees, a great splotch of vivid red in the landscape. 'Like blood,' said Lucy to herself; and was immediately ashamed. 'Oh, how bracing!' she cried, spreading out her arms and letting the wind blow her serge wrap out behind her like a flag. It whipped her skirt round her body, showing its slender pretty lines, and the parlourmaid, going in and out with the luggage, looked curiously at this small juvenile new mistress. 'Oh, I love this wind--don't take me indoors yet----' Wemyss was pleased that she should like the wind, for was it not by the time it reached his house part, too, of his property? His face, which had clouded a little because of The Cows, cleared again. But she didn't really like the wind at all, she never had liked anything that blustered and was cold, and if she hadn't been nervous the last thing she would have done was to stand there letting it blow her to pieces. 'And what a lot of laurels!' she exclaimed, holding on her hat with one hand and with the other pointing to a corner filled with these shrubs. 'Yes. I'll take you round the garden after lunch,' said Wemyss. 'We'll go in now.' 'And--and laurustinus. I love laurustinus----' 'Yes. Vera planted that. It has done very well. Come in now----' 'And--look, what are those bare things without any leaves yet?' 'I'll show you everything after lunch, Lucy. Come in----' And he put his arm about her shoulders, and urged her through the door the maid was holding open with difficulty because of the wind. There she was, then, actually inside The Willows. The door was shut behind her. She looked about her shrinkingly. They were in a roomy place with a staircase in it. 'The hall,' said Wemyss, standing still, his arm round her. 'Yes,' said Lucy. 'Oak,' said Wemyss. 'Yes,' said Lucy. He gazed round him with a sigh of satisfaction at having got back to it. 'All oak,' he said. 'You'll find nothing gimcrack about _my_ house, little Love. Where are those flowers?' he added, turning sharply to the parlourmaid. 'I don't see my yellow flowers.' 'They're in the dining-room, sir,' said the parlourmaid. 'Why aren't they where I could see them the first thing?' 'I understood the orders were they were always to be on the breakfast-table, sir.' 'Breakfast-table! When there isn't any breakfast?' 'I understood----' 'I'm not interested in what you understood.' Lucy here nervously interrupted, for Everard sounded suddenly very angry, by exclaiming, 'Antlers!' and waving her unpinned-down arm in the direction of the----