landlord. The former tenant's name was Smith, she said (unmistakably
English this!). But his lady was a _Roosian_, she believed. They had
lived in _Roosia_, and some of the children, having been born there,
were little _Roosians_, and had _Roosian_ names. She could not speak
herself, having no knowledge of the country, but she had heard that
the _Roosians_ were heathens, though Mr. Smith and his family went
regularly to church. They had lived by a river, she believed, and
their old home was called by the same outlandish name they had given
to this. She had heard that it meant a house by the water-side, but
could not say, knowing no language but her own, and having (she was
thankful to say) found it sufficient for all purposes. She knew that
before Mr. Smith's time the house was called Montague Mount, and there
was some sense in that name. Though what the sense was, she did not
offer to explain.

"'Please, please take it!' I whispered in a pause of the conversation!
'there are six little gardens, and--'

"My father broke in with mock horror on his face: 'Don't speak of six
gardens!' he exclaimed. 'The one will condemn the place, I fear, but
we must go home and consult your mother.'

"I suppose we did consult her.

"I know we described all the charms of the house and garden, and
passed rather a poor examination as to their condition, and what might
be expected from the landlord. That my father endeavoured to conceal
his personal bias, and that I made no secret of mine. At last my
mother interrupted some elaborately practical details by saying in
her gentle voice--