in clothes is above all praise, though I fancy you were somewhat too
vain of your legs, sir. I never knew before that men had legs like
that, did you, Sophy?"

"I take no pleasure in the legs of a man." I quoted the Psalmist
acridly enough.

"Don't pay any attention to Sophy," Alicia advised the portrait,
naughtily. "Just to prove how much we both admire you, you shall
have Ariel's roses." She had brought them up-stairs with us, and now
she walked over to the mantel to place them beneath the picture.

"Why!" exclaimed Alicia, "why!" and she held up nothing more
remarkable than a package of cigarettes, evidently left there
recently, for it was not dusty.

"I dare say Judge Gatchell forgot it, when he was looking over the
house. That reminds me: the silver you admired so much was marked
'G.' Then, in all probability, Judge Gatchell sent us that spread,
and very thoughtful it was of him, I must say."

"Rheumatic old judges don't smoke superfine cigarettes, Sophy, nor
send black tray-bearers in terra-cotta robes out on rainy days for
the entertainment of strange ladies. No: this is something, or
somebody, _young_. But since when did Ariel take to tobacco?"

"Let's go down-stairs," I suggested, "and wait for that old darky,
if he is a real darky and ever means to return." I did not fancy
those big forlorn rooms, with their great beds that didn't seem made
for people to sleep and dream in, but to stay awake and worry over