arrived at the bedroom.

'I'm sorry you should see the room like this,' Kate said. 'I thought that
my mother-in-law had got the room ready for you. I was obliged to sleep
here last night; my husband--'

'I assure you I take no objection to the fact of your having slept here,'
he replied gallantly.

Kate blushed, and an awkward silence followed.

As Mr. Lennox looked round an expression of dissatisfaction passed over his
face. It was a much poorer place than the drawing-room. Religion and
poverty went there hand-in-hand. A rickety iron bedstead covered with
another patchwork quilt occupied the centre of the room, and there was a
small chest of drawers in white wood placed near the fireplace--the
smallest and narrowest in the world. Upon the black painted chimney-piece a
large red apple made a spot of colour. The carpet was in rags, and the lace
blinds were torn, and hung like fishnets. Mr. Lennox apparently was not
satisfied, but when his eyes fell upon Kate it was clear that he thought
that so pretty a woman might prove a compensation. But the pious
exhortations hanging on the walls seemed to cause him a certain uneasiness.
Above the washstand there were two cards bearing the inscriptions, 'Thou
art my hope,' 'Thou art my will'; and these declarations of faith were
written within a painted garland of lilies and roses.

'I see that you're religious.'

'I'm afraid not so much as I should be, sir.'