me.

"Do you know," he said, "those kind of women, fair and calm, whose
thoughts seem to be always turned inward? My wife is one of those; when
one talks to her she listens with her eyes down, and seems as though she
had left another world of thought just for your sake. Her manner always
piques one to go on talking for the sake of making her smile. I can just
imagine how she looks now, while Lady Ledbitter talks to her. Well, come
to your own room, John, and we will stroll round the grounds until her
ladyship has retreated."

What a beautiful old house it was! One could tell so easily that a lady
of taste and refinement presided over it. The fine old oak was not
covered, but contrasting with it were thick, crimson rugs, hangings of
crimson velvet, and it was relieved by any amount of flowers; beautiful
pictures were hung with exquisite taste; white statues stood out in
grand relief against the dark walls.

"Your wife is a woman of taste, that is quite evident, Lance," I said.

My own room--a spacious chamber called the Blue Chamber--a large,
old-fashioned room with three windows, each window seat as large as a
small room; the hangings were of blue and white; there were a few
jardinieres with costly, odorous flowers; easy chairs, a comfortable
couch. Little stands had been placed with easy chairs in the window
seats; the room looked as though bluebells had been strewn with a
liberal hand on white ground.

"How beautiful!" I cried; "I shall never want to leave this room again,
Lance."