h a chaise was in waiting to convey him to Dublin.

As for Roland, his agitated and excited mind banished all desire for
sleep, and he wandered out upon the beach, where, resolving many a good
intention for the future, he walked to and fro till day was breaking.

CHAPTER XXX. MISS LEICESTER'S DREAM AND ITS FULFILMENT

Old walls have mouths as well as ears.

The Convent: a Play.

To us of the present day, who see what Genii are guineas, fairy tales
are mere allegories. Your true sorcerer is a credit "on Coutts,"
and anything may be esteemed within his power who reckons by tens of
thousands.

Tom Linton was experimenting on this problem somewhat largely at
Tubbermore, where the old, misshapen, ugly house had undergone such
a series of transformations inside and out that the oldest inhabitant
might have failed to recognize it. Roman cement and stucco--those
cosmetics of architecture--had given to the front a most plausible air;
and what with a great flagged terrace beneath and a balustrade parapet
above, the whole had put on a wonderful look of solidity and importance.
French windows and plate-glass, stuccoed architraves and richly
traceried balconies, from which access was had to various terraces and
flower-plats, contributed an appearance of lightness to the building;
and what was lost in architectural elegance, was fully recompensed by
convenience and facility of enjoyment.

Within, the arrangements were excellent, and, as regarded the object
in view, perfect; various suites of apartments, so separated as to be
actually like residences, abounded throughout, so that the guests might
either indulge their solitude undisturbed, or mix in the wide circle of
the general company. For the latter, a magnificent suite of rooms led
along the entire basement story. Here, considering the shortness of the
time and the difficulties encountered, Linton's skill was pre-eminently
distinguished. Painting was too slow a process for such an emergency,
and accordingly the walls were hung with rich silks and stuffs from the
looms of Lyons, draped in a hundred graceful fashions, while the floors,
laid down in the rough, were concealed by the massive texture of Persian
carpets, the most costly ever brought to this country. The air of
comfort and "livableness"--if we may coin a word--depicted on every
side, took away the reproach of ostentatious splendor, which perhaps
might have been applied to rich decorations and gorgeo