all three were filled with views of the park, now growing pale in the
evening air. The flower-gardens were drawn symmetrically about the house
and were set with blue flower-vases in which there were red geraniums. It
was a very large room, nearly forty feet long, with old portraits on the
walls--ugly things and ill done; and where there were no portraits the
walls were decorated with vine leaves and mountains. The parqueted floor
was partially covered with skins, and the furniture seemed to have known
many a generation; some of it was heavy and cumbersome, some of it was
modern. There was a grand piano, and above it two full-length portraits--a
lady in a blue dress and a man in black velvet knee-breeches. At the end of
a long silence, Emily suddenly threw herself weeping into Julia's arms.

'Oh, you are my only friend; you will not leave me now.... We shall always
love one another, shall we not? If anything ever came between us it would
kill me.... That poor old man lying dead up-stairs! He loved me very
dearly, and I loved him, too. Yet I said just now I could not have married
him even if I had known it would save his life. I was wrong; yes, I would
have married him if I had known.... You don't believe me?'

'My dearest girl, you must try to forget that Mr. Burnett ever entertained
so foolish a thought. He was a very good man, and loved you for a long time
as he should have loved you--as a daughter. We shall respect his memory
best by forgetting the events of the last six weeks. And now, Emily, dinner
will be ready at seven o'clock, and it is now six. What are you going to
do?'

'I shall go out for a little walk. I shall go down and see the swans.'

'Shall I come with you?'