don't think any one knows anything of except myself, will remind me of
Ashwood. They will look very well, indeed, hanging round our little
dining-room. You are sure you don't want them, do you?'

'No; I won't want them. I'm only too pleased to be able to give them to
you.'

'You are very good, indeed you are. Look at these old haymakers; I never
saw but one little corner of this picture before; it was stowed away behind
a lot of lumber, and I hadn't the strength to pull it out.... I'm afraid
you've got yourself rather dusty.'

'Oh no; it will brush off.'

'I shall hang this picture over the fireplace; it will look very well
there. I daresay you don't see anything in it, but I'd sooner have these
pictures than those down-stairs. I love the picture of the windmill on the
first landing----'

'Then why not have it? I'll have it taken down at once.'

'No; I could not think of taking it. How would the landing look without it?
I should miss it dreadfully when I came here--for I daresay you will ask us
to visit you occasionally, when you are lonely, won't you?'

'My dear Emily, whenever you like, I hope you will come here.'

'And you will come and stay with us in London? Your room will be always
ready; I'll look after that. We shall feel very offended, indeed, if you
ever think of going to an hotel. Of course, you mustn't expect much; we