s was an
honest man who knew quality when he met it.

Humming a tune and making a chain of little pools on the stone flags
of the hall, Mr. Lovel followed his guide, who bore his shabby valise,
another servant having led away the horse. The hall was dim with
flickering shadows cast by the lamp in the doorway, and smelt raw and
cold as if the house had been little dwelt in. Beyond it was a stone
passage where a second lamp burned and lit up a forest of monstrous deer
horns on the wall. The butler flung open a door.

"I trust your lordship will approve the preparations," he said. "Supper
awaits you, and when you have done I will show you your chamber. There
are dry shoes by the hearth." He took from the traveller his sopping
overcoat and drew from his legs the pulpy riding-boots. With a bow which
might have graced a court he closed the door, leaving Mr. Lovel alone to
his entertainment.

It was a small square room panelled to the ceiling in dark oak, and
lit by a curious magnificence of candles. They burned in sconces on the
walls and in tall candlesticks on the table, while a log fire on the
great stone hearth so added to the glow that the place was as bright as
day. The windows were heavily shuttered and curtained, and in the far
corner was a second door. On the polished table food had been laid--a
noble ham, two virgin pies, a dish of fruits, and a group of shining
decanters. To one coming out of the wild night it was a transformation
like a dream, but Mr. Lovel, half drunk, accepted it as no more than his
due. His feather brain had been fired by the butler's "my lord," and
he did not puzzle his head with questions. From a slim bottle he filled
himself a glass of brandy, but on second thoughts set it down untasted.
He would sample the wine first and top off with the spirit. Meantime he
would get warm.

He stripped off his coat, which was dampish, and revealed a dirty shirt
and the dilapidated tops of his small clothes. His stockings were torn
and soaking, so he took them off, and stuck his naked feet into the
furred slippers which stood waiting by the hearth. Then he sat himself
in a great brocaded arm-chair and luxuriously stretched his legs to the
blaze.

But his head was too much afire to sit still. The comfort soaked into
his being through every nerve and excited rather than soothed him. He
did not want to sleep now, though little before he had been crushed
by weariness.. .. There was a mirror beside the fire