decorated her one window, be replaced by curtains or even a blind of a
dark tone that she might not be awakened by the first ray of light. She
had even ventured to propose that the cost of such alterations be
stopped out of her salary. Miss Wickham had refused to countenance any
such innovation.

Three years before, when the offending blind had refused to hold
together any longer, Nora had had a renewal of hope. But no! The new
blind had been more glaringly white than its predecessor, which by
contrast had taken on a grateful ivory tone in its old age. They had had
one of their rare scenes at its advent. Nora had as a rule an admirable
control of her naturally quick temper. But this had been too much.

"I might begin to understand your refusal if you ever entered my room.
But since it would no more occur to you to do so than to visit the
stables, I cannot see what possible difference it can make," Nora had
stormed.

Miss Wickham's smile, which at the beginning of her companion's outburst
had been faintly ironic, had broadened into the frankly humorous.

"Stated with your characteristic regard for exactitude, my dear Miss
Marsh, it would never enter my head to do either. I prefer the white
blind, however. As you know, I have no taste for explanations. We will
let the matter rest there, if you please." Then she had added: "Some
day, I strongly suspect, some man will amuse himself breaking that fiery
temper of yours. I wish I were not so old, I think that I should enjoy
knowing that he had succeeded." And the incident had ended, as always,
with a few angry tears on Nora's part, as a preliminary to the
inevitable game of bezique which finished off each happy day!