I never allow no butter-fingered girls in this room, except to sweep or
scrub, under my own eye. There's not many ornaments, but what there is is
precious, and the apple of master's eye.'

It was a lovely room, with a panelled oak ceiling, and a fine old oak
mantel-piece, on which were three or four pieces of Oriental crackle. The
large oak writing-table was neatly arranged with crimson leather
blotting-book, despatch-box, old silver inkstand, and a pair of exquisite
bronze statuettes of Apollo and Mercury, which seemed the presiding
geniuses of the place.

'I don't believe Mr. Wendover could get on with his studies if those two
figures weren't there,' said Mrs. Mawley.

The rooms were kept always aired and ready--no one knew at what hour the
master might return. He was a good master, honoured and beloved by the
old servants, who had known him from his infancy; and his lightest whim
was respected. The fact that he should have given the best part of his
life since he left Oxford to roving about foreign countries was lamented;
but this roving temper was regarded as only an eccentric manner of sowing
those wild oats which youth must in some wise scatter; and it was hoped
that with ripening years he would settle down and spend his days in the
home of his ancestors. He might come home at any time, he had informed
Mrs. Mawley in his last letter, received six weeks ago.

That glimpse of the room in which he lived gave Ida a vivid idea of the
man--the calm, orderly student who had won high honours at the
University, and was never happier than when absorbed in books that took
him back to the past--to that very past which was presided over by the
two pagan gods on the writing-table. She noted that the wide block of