thickness of the wall—opened further: a woman in a big garden hat set her foot slowly on the time-hollowed stone step and as slowly walked across the turf. I was forming some apology when she lifted up her head and I saw that she was blind.
'I heard you,' she said. 'Isn't that a motor car?'
"I'm afraid I've made a mistake in my road. I should have turned off up above—I never dreamed' I began.
'But I'm very glad. Fancy a motor car coming into the garden! It will be such a treat' She turned and made as though looking about her. 'You—you haven't seen any one, have you—perhaps?'
'No one to speak to, but the children seemed interested at a distance.'
'Which?'
'I saw a couple up at the window just now, and I think I heard a little chap in the grounds.'
'Oh, lucky you!' she cried, and her face brightened. 'I hear them, of course, but that's all. You've seen them and heard them?'
'Yes,' I answered. 'And if I know anything of children, one of them's having a beautiful time by the fountain yonder. Escaped, I should imagine.'
'You're fond of children?'
I gave her one or two reasons why I did not altogether hate them.
'Of course, of course,' she said. 'Then you understand. Then you won't think it foolish if I ask you to take your car through the gardens,
