"Do you agree with me, Coralie?" asked my unsuspecting sister.

"Certainly; there is no position in the county equal to that of Lady
Trevelyan of Crown Anstey."

"How strange it is, Edgar, that you should be married, and your wife
Lady Trevelyan! Sometimes it seems to me all a dream."

"Dreams come and go so lightly," said Coralie, with that smile which
always made me slightly afraid.

The remainder of that day we spent in making out a long list of all
things needful. Coralie's taste was paramount. She decided upon little
matters of elegance we never even thought of. It was she who strongly
advised me to send to London for Mr. Dickson, the well-known decorator.

"He will arrange a suite of rooms so perfectly that you will hardly know
them," she said.

So it was decided. Mr. Dickson came, and when he found there was to be
no limit either to time, expense, money, or anything else, he promised
me something that should make Crown Anstey famous. All things went on
perfectly. The magnificent preparations making for my darling occupied
my time most happily. It was now almost the end of November, and our
marriage was to take place on the 26th of December. Mr. Dickson and his
army of workmen had taken their departure, and the rooms prepared for my
wife were beyond all praise.

The boudoir was hung in blue and silver; it was a perfect little