“One thing I must show you,” she said, suddenly, “and that is the orchid-house!  Are you fond of orchids?”

“Under certain circumstances,” I said, unguardedly, “I could be fond of apple-cores.”  As soon as I had spoken these words I would have been glad to recall them, but they seemed to make no impression whatever on her.

We walked to the orchid-house, we went through it, and she explained all its beauties, its singularities, and its rarities.  When we came out again, I asked myself:  “Is she in the habit of doing all this to chance visitors?  Would she treat a Brown or a Robinson in the way she is treating me?” I could not answer my question, but if Brown and Robinson had appeared at that moment I should have been glad to knock their heads together.

I did not want to go; I would have been glad to examine every building on the place, but I knew I must depart; and as I was beginning to express my sense of the kindness with which I had been treated, she interrupted by asking me if I expected to come back this way.

“No,” said I, “that is not my plan.  I expect to ride on to Waterton, and there I shall stop for a day or two and decide what section of the country I shall explore next.”

“And to-day?” she said.  “Where have you planned to spend the night?”

“I have been recommended to stop at a little inn called the ’Holly Sprig,’” I replied.  “It is a leisurely day’s journey from Walford, and I have been told that it is a pleasant place and a pretty country.  I do not care to travel all the time, and I want to stop a little when I find interesting scenery.”

[Illustration:  “As soon as I had spoken these words”]

“Oh, I know the Holly Sprig Inn,” said she, speaking very quickly, “and I would advise you not to stop there.  We have lunched there two or three times when we were out on long drives.  There is a much better house about five miles the other side of the Holly Sprig.  It is really a large, handsome hotel, with good service and everything you want—­where people go to spend the summer.”

I thanked her for her information and bade her good-bye.  She shook my hand very cordially and I walked away.  I had gone but a very few steps when I wanted to turn around and look back, but I did not.

Before I had reached the lodge, where I had left my bicycle, I met Brownster, and when I saw him I put my hand into my pocket.  He had certainly been very attentive.

“I carried your valise, sir,” he said, “to the lodge, and I took the liberty of strapping it to your handle-bar.  You will find everything all right, sir, and the—­other clothes will be properly attended to.”

I thanked him, and then handed him some money.  To my surprise, he did not offer to take it.  He smiled a little and bowed.

“Would you mind, sir,” he said, “if you did not give me anything?  I assure you, sir, that I’d very much rather that you wouldn’t give me anything.”  And with this he bowed and rapidly disappeared.