"Carnaby Grange?" said Alton quietly.

"Yes," said the girl with a trace of curiosity. "We spent some little
time in the grounds. They lie deep in the woods, and there is a famous
rose garden."

"Yes," said Alton. "All kinds of roses. And the old place? Tell me
about it!"

"Is very picturesque," said the girl. "It looked quiet and grey, and
almost stately under its ivy that autumn day, but I could scarcely
describe it you. You have nothing like it in Canada."

"No," said Alton gravely. "I have seen nothing like it in Canada. But
wasn't there a lake?"

The girl glanced at him curiously. "There was," she said. "I remember
it lay shining before us between the woods. It was very beautiful,
quieter and calmer than our lakes in Canada."

A slight flush crept through the bronze in Alton's face, which grew a
trifle grim, and a light into his eyes. "There is a lake at Somasco
where you can see the white peaks lie shining, and the big Wapiti come
down to drink," he said. "There are cedars and redwoods about it which
except for a few in California, haven't their equal in the world, but
there's nothing about that lake or valley that's quiet or calm. It's
wild and great and grand. No. They've nothing of that kind in the old
country. Are not Abana and Pharfar better than all the waters of
Israel?"