elbow, sensibly left me alone to the enjoyment of it. Ever since that
morning, I have realised that, to start the day exactly right, a man
should breakfast by himself, amid just such surroundings, leisurely
and without distraction. A copy of the morning's _Record_ was lying on
the table, but I did not even open it. I did not care what had
happened in the world the day before!

At last, ineffably content, I stepped out upon the driveway at the
side of the house, and strolled away among the trees. At the end of a
few minutes, I came to the high stone wall which bounded the estate
of the mysterious Worthington Vaughan, and suddenly the wish came to
me to see what lay behind it. Without much difficulty, I found the
tree with the ladder against it, which we had mounted the night
before. It was a long ladder, even in the daytime, but at last I
reached the top, and settled myself on the limb against which it
rested. Assuring myself that the leaves hid me from any chance
observer, I looked down into the grounds beyond the wall.

There was not much to see. The grounds were extensive and had
evidently been laid out with care, but there was an air of neglect
about them, as though the attention they received was careless and
inadequate. The shrubbery was too dense, grass was invading the walks,
here and there a tree showed a dead limb or a broken one. Near the
house was a wide lawn, designed, perhaps, as a tennis-court or
croquet-ground, with rustic seats under the trees at the edge.

About the house itself was a screen of magnificent elms, which
doubtless gave the place its name, and which shut the house in
completely. All I could see of it was one corner of the roof. This,
however, stood out clear against the sky, and it was here, evidently,