Bates was soberly chopping wood at a rough pile of

timber at the rear of the house. His industry had already

impressed me. He had the quiet ways of an ideal

serving man.

"Well, Bates, you don't intend to let me freeze to

death, do you? There must be enough in the pile there

to last all winter."

"Yes, sir; I am just cutting a little more of the hickory,

sir. Mr. Glenarm always preferred it to beech or

maple. We only take out the old timber. The summer

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storms eat into the wood pretty bad, sir."

"Oh, hickory, to be sure! I've heard it's the best firewood.

That's very thoughtful of you."

I turned next to the unfinished tower in the meadow,

from which a windmill pumped water to the house. The

iron frame was not wholly covered with stone, but material

for the remainder of the work lay scattered at the

base. I went on through the wood to the lake and inspected

the boat-house. It was far more pretentious

than I had imagined from my visit in the dark. It was

of two stories, the upper half being a cozy lounging-room,

with wide windows and a fine outlook over the

water. The unplastered walls were hung with Indian

blankets; lounging-chairs and a broad seat under the

windows, colored matting on the floor and a few prints

pinned upon the Navajoes gave further color to the

place.

I followed the pebbly shore to the stone wall where

it marked the line of the school-grounds. The wall, I

observed, was of the same solid character here as along

the road. I tramped beside it, reflecting that my grandfather's

estate, in the heart of the Republic, would some

day give the lie to foreign complaints that we have no

ruins in America.

I had assumed that there was no opening in the wall,

but half-way to the road I found an iron gate, fastened

with chain and padlock, by means of which I climbed

to the top. The pillars at either side of the gate were of

huge dimensions and were higher than I could reach.

An intelligent forester had cleared the wood in the

school-grounds, which were of the same general character

as the Glenarm estate. The little Gothic church

near at hand was built of stone similar to that used in

Glenarm House. As I surveyed the scene a number of

young women came from one of the school-buildings

and, forming in twos and fours, walked back and forth

in a rough path that led to the chapel. A Sister clad in a

brown habit lingered near or walked first with one and

then another of the students. It was all very pretty and

interesting and not at all the ugly school for paupers I

had expected to find. The students were not the charity

children I had carelessly pictured; they were not so

young, for one thing, and they seemed to be appareled

decently enough.




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