When I had had enough walking I retired to the piazza and sat there, until Brownster, with a bow, came and informed me that breakfast was served.

The young lady, in the freshest of summer costumes, met me at the door and bade me “Good-morning,” but the greeting of her father was not by any means cordial, although his manner had lost some of the stiff condescension which had sat so badly upon him the evening before.  The mother was a very pleasant little lady of few words and a general air which indicated an intimate acquaintance with back seats.

The breakfast was a remarkably good one.  When the meal was over, Mr. Putney walked with me into the hall.  “I must now ask you to excuse me, sir,” said he, “as this is the hour when I receive my manager and arrange with him for the varied business of the day.  Good-morning, sir.  I wish you a very pleasant journey.”  And, barely giving me a chance to thank him for his entertainment, he disappeared into the back part of the house.

The young lady was standing at the front of the hall.  “Won’t you please come in,” she said, “and see mother?  She wants to talk to you about Walford.”

I found the little lady in a small room opening from the parlor, and also, to my great surprise, I found her extremely talkative and chatty.  She asked me so many questions that I had little chance to answer them, and she told me a great deal more about Walford and its people and citizens than I had learned during my nine months’ residence in the village.  I was very glad to give her an opportunity of talking, which was a pleasure, I imagined, she did not often enjoy; but as I saw no signs of her stopping, I was obliged to rise and take leave of her.

The young lady accompanied me into the hall.  “I must get my valise,” I said, “and then I must be off.  And I assure you—­”

“No, do not trouble yourself about your valise,” she interrupted.  “Brownster will attend to that—­he will take it down to the lodge.  And as to your gorgeous raiment, he will see that that is all properly returned to its owners.”

I picked up my cap, and she walked with me out upon the piazza.  “I suppose you saw everything on our place,” she asked, “when you were walking about this morning?”

A little surprised, I answered that I had seen a good deal, but I did not add that I had not found what I was looking for.

“We have all sorts of hot-houses and green-houses,” she said, “but they are not very interesting at this time of the year, otherwise I would ask you to walk through them before you go.”  She then went on to tell me that a little building which she pointed out was a mushroom-house.  “And you will think it strange that it should be there when I tell you that not one of our family likes mushrooms or ever tastes one.  But the manager thinks that we ought to grow mushrooms, and so we do it.”

As she was talking, the thought came to me that there were some people who might consider this young lady a little forward in her method of entertaining a comparative stranger, but I dismissed this idea.  With such a peculiarly constituted family it was perhaps necessary for her to put herself forward, in regard, at least, to the expression of hospitality.