twenty years ago. My father never would have it. He disliked it
exceedingly, and believed it aged the eyes."

Henry arrived with the key. The door was unlocked, and the light
established. The party entered a large and lofty chamber with
ceiling of elaborate plaster work and silver-grey walls, the paper
on which was somewhat tarnished. A pattern of dim, pink roses as
large as cabbages ran riot over it. A great oriel window looked
east, while a smaller one opened upon the south. Round the curve
of the oriel ran a cushioned seat eighteen inches above the ground,
while on the western side of the room, set in the internal wall,
was a modern fireplace with a white Adams mantel above it. Some
old, carved chairs stood round the walls, and in one corner, stacked
together, lay half a dozen old oil portraits, grimy and faded. They
called for the restorer, but were doubtfully worth his labors. Two
large chests of drawers, with rounded bellies, and a very beautiful
washing-stand also occupied places round the room, and against the
inner wall rose a single, fourposter bed of Spanish chestnut, also
carved. A grey, self-colored carpet covered the floor, and on one
of the chests stood a miniature bronze copy of the Faun of
Praxiteles.

The apartment was bright and cheerful of aspect. Nothing gloomy
or depressing marked it, nor a suggestion of the sinister.

"Could one wish for a more amiable looking room?" asked
Fayre-Michell.

They gazed round them, and Ernest Travers expressed admiration at
the old furniture.