basket of fancy work, and her favourite Blenheim spaniel, Lalla Rookh;
but even these sources of amusement did not prevent the involuntary
expression of weariness in occasional yawns, and frequent pacings up and
down the room, where the formal hotel furniture had a comfortless and
chilly look.

Fellside, her ladyship's place in Westmoreland, was the pleasure house
which, among all her possessions, she most valued; but it had hitherto
been reserved for summer occupation, or for perhaps two or three weeks
at Easter, when the spring was exceptionally fine. The sudden
determination to spend the coming winter in the house near Grasmere was
considered a curious freak of Lady Maulevrier's, and she was constrained
to explain her motives to her friends.

'His lordship is out of health,' she said, 'and wants perfect rest and
retirement. Now, Fellside is the only place we have in which he is
likely to get perfect rest. Anywhere else we should have to entertain.
Fellside is out of the world. There is no one to be entertained.'

'Except your neighbour, Wordsworth. I suppose you see him sometimes?'

'Dear simple-minded old soul, he gives nobody any trouble,' said her
ladyship.

'But is not Westmoreland very cold in winter?' asked her friend.

Lady Maulevrier smiled benignly, as at an inoffensive ignorance.

'So sheltered,' she murmured. 'We are at the base of the Fell. Loughrigg
rises up like a cyclopean wall between us and the wind.'