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In one of the gardens I noticed that the little paths were paved hat looked like circular tiles, but which, on inspection, I found to be old-fashioned stone ink-bottles, buried botto upon the quaint conceit of the forgotten scrivener who had thus adorned his habitation--a lariter perhaps, or an author, or perchance even a poet--when I perceived the nuh wall There was no bell or knocker, so, lifting the latch, I pushed the door open and entered

But if the court itself had been a surprise, this was a positive wonder, a dream Here, within earshot of the ruarden enclosed by high walls and, now that the gate was shut, cut off froe of the urban world that seethed without I stood and gazed in delighted astonishay with blossohty hollyhocks forround; over which a pair of sulphur-tinted butterflies flitted, unmindful of a buxo across the borders and clapping her snos fruitlessly in rand old house, dark-eaved and venerable, that arden when ruffled dandies were borne in sedan chairs through the court, and gentle Izaak Walton, stealing forth froo a-angling" at Temple Mills

So overpowered was I by this unexpected vision that my hand was on the bottom knob of a row of bell-pulls before I recollectedfrom within recalled me to my business that I observed underneath it a small brass plate inscribed "Miss Oman"

The door opened with sorily

"Have I rung the wrong bell?" I asked--foolishly enough, I must admit

"How can I tell?" she de abell and then say he's sorry"

"I didn't go as far as that," I retorted "It seems to have had the desired effect, and I've ain"

"Whom do you want to see?" she asked

"Mr Bellingham"

"Are you the doctor?"

"I am a doctor"

"Follow me upstairs," said Miss Oman, "and don't tread on the paint"

I crossed the spacious hall, and, preceded bycarefully on a ribbon ofMiss O to the room, said: "Go in there and wait; I'll tell her you're here"