Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. An unwelcome idea came to him. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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