an ancient moat. We have seen so many driedup moats, bridged over and "off duty," as Walter says, that it is a satisfaction to see one with water in it. Upon this moat, under the shadow of the castle wall, swans are floating which are so intelligent that they pull a bellrope when they want their dinner. This bellrope, which connects in some way with the kitchen, the swans were pulling when we walked by the moat.

I am mailing this letter here, and will write you again from Ilfracombe. We heard from Archie, before we left Oxford. He tells us he has extended his vacation, in order to have a week in Vienna with some M.D.'s, and now holds out a prospect of meeting us in Paris in September.

ΧΙ

"THE LAND OF LORNA DOONE"

ILFRACOMBE, Sunday, August 25th.

It was quite late when we reached Ilfracombe last night and after driving up a long steep hill to a hotel on the cliffs, to which we had wired for rooms, we found a note from Angela saying there were no accommodations to be had in this most desirable place. With much reluctance we left this pleasantly-situated inn with its queer name, the Cliff Hydro, and drove down into the town to an address that Angela had left for us. Here our three graces were anxiously awaiting us, the girls full of their doings with Angela, driving, walking, and having tea at a little cottage upon the rocks, afternoon tea being an important part of the day's amusements.

This place is all up and down hill, the streets being as steep as those at Glastonbury. You would have been amused if you had seen us going to church this morning, winding round and round the hill-side paths to a quite large

church on the tip top, which was so full that it was with difficulty that we found seats. These good church-goers are most of them hardworking people, clerks, and small shopkeepers, who have come here for their summer vacation as Ilfracombe abounds in cheap boardinghouses. At the Casino and its garden, last night, we were reminded of Atlantic City and Asbury Park, so great was the crowd of pleasure-seekers and so varied the amusements offered them.

Ilfracombe has much natural beauty, like all of the resorts on the Devonshire coast, with its bold headlands reaching out into the sea and its picturesque Tors Walk, which is the fashionable promenade of the town. They seem to call all their hills "tors" here, but none of them is equal to our Tor Chalice at Glastonbury, to which my thoughts turn back with real affection, as to something that I have known and loved for years.

We are glad to see this place, as we have heard so much of it, and for another and less flattering reason, which is that we may in future avoid it in this crowded holiday season.

After our mid-day dinner, we held a council of war with regard to our next move, as Angela is out of sorts with this place, and we are none

of us particularly charmed with it, especially as the people in the hotel seem to have an objection to Americans, and treat us, as she says, like "Jews, infidels and heretics." "Why try another Devonshire sea-side place?" she asks. "They will all be crowded like Ilfracombe."

This is not at all like Angela, as you know that she is usually eager to see new places, and thinks each one more delightful than the last. What has come over her? She is so variable, in the gayest mood one moment and quite dull and spiritless the next. When I said something to Walter about this, and wondered whether Angela was missing Ludovico, who she tells me went with the Haldanes all the way to Carlsbad, and stopped there for a week, he laughed and said, "How about the long-legged Scotchman? He is the suitor who would have my sympathy, if I happened to be, like you, in the match-making line."

"Dr. McIvor!" I exclaimed. "Of course he admires Angela, but he would never do for her."

"Why not, Zelphine?"

"Oh, because he is so plain looking with his sandy hair and his school-boy ways."

"Ian McIvor may not be an Adonis; but he

is a manly fellow with plenty of brains, and are only the handsome and well favored to be beloved, oh my Zelphine?"

Walter asked this absurd question with such a comical expression in his handsome eyes, that I could not help laughing, and so had to forgive him for calling me a match-maker. My reason was rather an absurd one I admit, but I fancy that I am spoiled, having so many good-looking men in my own family-and then no one, even Ludovico himself, seems quite good enough for Angela.

To return to our discussion, Angela says, "Why not go directly to Cornwall and see Tintagel and some of the places down there?" Much as I wish to see Lynton I was almost ready to yield to Angela's suggestion, as it has been raining since luncheon and you know that nothing so completely takes the life and spirit out of me as dull rainy weather, but fortunately Walter came to my rescue. Although I know that his own inclinations draw him strongly toward Tintagel and King Arthur's castle, of which Dr. McIvor has told him so much, he says that the weather will probably be more stormy in Cornwall and that Lynton is the place of all others that we should see. So to Lynton we go to-morrow.