"I think perhaps I can get permission," said Katherine, "if you will let me talk a while to the old man."
"All right. Go ahead," said George. "I believe you could wheedle anybody into doing what he shouldn't do."
"Now after saying that, I shall not allow you to listen, I shall step down and talk with him a moment, and you can drive on for a little distance and come back."
"Oh, that's all right," said George, "I know how it is. You don't want to give away the secret of your power. Be careful, now, in stepping down. This is not an American buggy." But before he had finished the warning, Katherine had jumped lightly on the gravel, and stood waiting for him to drive on. When he came back he found the iron gates open.
"I shall not get in again," she said. "You may leave the pony with this man, George; he will take care of it. We can walk up the avenue to the house."
After a short walk under the spreading old oaks they came in sight of the house, which was of red brick and of the Elizabethan style of architecture.
"I am rather disappointed with that," said George; "I always though told English homesteads were of stone."
