think I've found one, this place. I could make a good picture of it, with the hills as the background."
"Do, do!" she exclaimed. "And I'll make my guardian buy it from you; he often buys pictures. You might put me in it, with my gun and my dogs; I'll show you the dogs in the morning—beauties!"
We got on very well together, chatting in this light-hearted fashion. The evening passed on, but Mr. Parslewe did not come. We had supper; still he did not come. And at ten o'clock my hostess pronounced a decision.
"He won't come to-night, now," she said. "And it's my bed-time. Tibbie will take charge of you, Mr. Craye, and I can promise you that your bed is properly aired. Don't be afraid of the room; it looks as if it were haunted, but it isn't."
She gave me her hand, smiled, and went off, and presently the old woman appeared and conducted me to a chamber in one of the wings. It was more mediæval in appearance than the parlour, but it was remarkably comfortable, and there were hot bottles in the bed.
I believe I fell asleep as soon as my head
