They crossed a broad but scantily-furnished hall. Everywhere the same
look of hopeless incompleteness, temporary utility, and premature decay;
most of the furniture was mismatched and misplaced; many of the rooms
had changed their original functions or doubled them; a smell of cooking
came from the library, on whose shelves, mingled with books, were
dresses and household linen, and through the door of a room into which
Mrs. Delatour retired to remove her duster Mr. Bowers caught a glimpse
of a bed, and of a table covered with books and papers, at which a
tall, fair girl was writing. In a few moments Mrs. Delatour returned,
accompanied by this girl, and Eunice, her short-lipped sister. Bob, who
joined the party seated around Mr. Bowers and a table set with cake, a
decanter, and glasses, completed the group. Emboldened by the presence
of the tall Cynthia and his glimpse of her previous literary attitude,
Mr. Bowers resolved to make one more attempt.

"I suppose these yer young ladies sometimes go to the wood, too?" As his
eye rested on Cynthia, she replied:--

"Oh, yes."

"I reckon on account of the purty shadows down in the brush, and the
soft light, eh? and all that?" he continued, with a playful manner but a
serious accession of color.

"Why, the woods belong to us. It's mar's property!" broke in Eunice with
a flash of teeth.

"Well, Lordy, I wanter know!" said Mr. Bowers, in some astonishment.
"Why, that's right in my line, too! I've been sightin' timber all along
here, and that's how I dropped in on yer mar." Then, seeing a look of