Mrs. Ferrars had left the room to see if all was ready for their hour of
retirement, and Mr. Ferrars was walking up and down the room, absorbed
in thought.

"What do you think of it all, Endymion?" whispered Myra to her twin.

"I rather like it," he said.

She looked at him with a glance of blended love and mockery, and then
she said in his ear, "I feel as if we had fallen from some star."



CHAPTER XII

The morrow brought a bright autumnal morn, and every one woke, if not
happy, interested. There was much to see and much to do. The dew was so
heavy that the children were not allowed to quit the broad gravel walk
that bounded one side of the old house, but they caught enticing vistas
of the gleamy glades, and the abounding light and shade softened and
adorned everything. Every sight and sound too was novel, and from
the rabbit that started out of the grove, stared at them and then
disappeared, to the jays chattering in the more distant woods, all was
wonderment at least for a week. They saw squirrels for the first time,
and for the first time beheld a hedgehog. Their parents were busy in
the house; Mr. Ferrars unpacking and settling his books, and his wife
arranging some few articles of ornamental furniture that had been saved
from the London wreck, and rendering their usual room of residence as
refined as was in her power. It is astonishing how much effect a woman
of taste can produce with a pretty chair or two full of fancy and