belonged to the captain's mother, and, being fond of it, as it
reminded him of the "old ooman", he was wont to mix his grog in it,
and drink the same out of a teacup, the handle of which was gone, and
the saucer of which was among the things of the past.

Notwithstanding his avowed adherence to Tory principles, Captain
Ogilvy proceeded to make manifold radical changes and surprising
improvements in the little parlour, insomuch that when he had
completed the task, and led his sister carefully (for she was very
feeble) to look at what he had done, she became quite incapable of
expressing herself in ordinary language; positively refused to
believe her eyes, and never again entered that room, but always spoke
of what she had seen as a curious dream!

No one was ever able to discover whether there was not a slight tinge
of underlying jocularity in this remark of Mrs. Brand, for she was a
strange and incomprehensible mixture of shrewdness and innocence; but
no one took much trouble to find out, for she was so lovable that
people accepted her just as she was, contented to let any small
amount of mystery that seemed to be in her to remain unquestioned.

"The parlour" was one of those well-known rooms which are
occasionally met with in country cottages, the inmates of which are
not wealthy. It was reserved exclusively for the purpose of receiving
visitors. The furniture, though old, threadbare, and dilapidated, was
kept scrupulously clean, and arranged symmetrically. There were a few
books on the table, which were always placed with mathematical
exactitude, and a set of chairs, so placed as to give one
mysteriously the impression that they were not meant to be sat upon.
There was also a grate, which never had a fire in it, and was never