and leave it to me." Still lingering at the top of the steps, he
too was tempted by the refreshing coolness of the air. He took
the key out of the lock; secured the door after he had passed
through it; put the key in his pocket, and went down into the
garden.


Chapter IX.


Somebody Attends to the Door.


With slow steps Linley crossed the lawn; his mind gloomily
absorbed in thoughts which had never before troubled his easy
nature--thoughts heavily laden with a burden of self-reproach.

Arrived at the limits of the lawn, two paths opened before him.
One led into a quaintly pretty inclosure, cultivated on the plan
of the old gardens at Versailles, and called the French Garden.
The other path led to a grassy walk, winding its way capriciously
through a thick shrubbery. Careless in what direction he turned
his steps, Linley entered the shrubbery, because it happened to
be nearest to him.

Except at certain points, where the moonlight found its way
through open spaces in the verdure, the grassy path which he was
now following wound onward in shadow. How far he had advanced he
had not noticed, when he heard a momentary rustling of leaves at
some little distance in advance of him. The faint breeze had died