farmer, and mother of nine children, she was one of the old-world
women whose thoughts found abundant occupation in the cares and
pleasures of home. Hardship she had never known, nor yet luxury; the
old religion, the old views of sex and of society, endured with her
to the end.

After her death the room was converted into a parlour, used almost
exclusively by the young people. At the top of the house slept two
servants, each in her own well-furnished retreat; one of them was a
girl, the other a woman of about forty, named Mary Woodruff. Mary
had been in the house for twenty years; she enjoyed her master's
confidence, and, since old Mrs. Lord's death, exercised practical
control in the humbler domestic affairs.

With one exception, all parts of the abode presented much the same
appearance as when Stephen Lord first established himself
antiquated, and in primitive taste. Nancy's bedroom alone here. The
furniture was old, solid, homely; the ornaments were displayed the
influence of modern ideas. On her twentieth birthday, the girl
received permission to dress henceforth as she chose (a strict
sumptuary law having previously been in force), and at the same time
was allowed to refurnish her chamber. Nancy pleaded for modern
reforms throughout the house, but in vain; even the drawing-room
kept its uninviting aspect, not very different, save for the removal
of the bed, from that it had presented when the ancient lady slept
here. In her own little domain, Miss. Lord made a clean sweep of rude
appointments, and at small expense surrounded herself with pretty
things. The woodwork and the furniture were in white enamel; the
paper had a pattern of wild-rose. A choice chintz, rose-leaf and
flower on a white ground, served for curtains and for bed-hangings.