leather and gilding, made as
good a lining for the walls as anything else, and gave an air of
snugness to the room in which the family dined when there was no
company.

They came presently to the Squire's den, at the end of a corridor.

"That was my dear husband's study," sighed Mrs. Tempest. "It looks
south, into the rose garden, and is one of the prettiest rooms in the
house. But we keep it locked, and I think Violet has the key."

"Pray don't let Miss Tempest be disturbed," said Captain Winstanley. "I
have seen quite enough to know what a delightful house you have--all
the interest of days that are gone, all the luxuries of to-day. I think
that blending of past and present is most fascinating. I should never
be a severe restorer of antiquity, or refuse to sit in a chair that
wasn't undeniably Gothic."

"Ah," sighed the Vicar's wife, who was an advanced disciple in the
school of Eastlake, "but don't you think everything should be in
harmony? If I were as rich as Mrs. Tempest, I wouldn't have so much as
a teapot that was not strictly Tudor."

"Then I'm afraid you'd have to go without a teapot, and drink your tea
out of a tankard," retorted Captain Winstanley.

"At any rate, I would be as Tudor as I could be."

"And not have a brass bedstead, a spring mattress, a moderator lamp, or
a coal-scuttle in your house," said the captain. "My dear madam, it is
all very well to be mediaeval in matters ecclesiastic, but home
comforts must not be sacrificed in the pursuit of the aesthetic, or a
modern luxury discarded because it looks like an anachronism."

Mrs. Scobel was delighted with Captain Winstanley. He was just the kind
of man to succeed in a rustic community. His quiet self-assurance set
other people at their ease. He carried with him an air of life and
movement, as if he were the patentee of a new pleasure.

"My husband would be so pleased to see you at the Vicarage, if you are
staying any time in the neighbourhood," she said.

But after this little gush of friendliness, she reflected that there
could not be much sympathy between the man of society and her Anglican
parson; and that it was she, and not Ignatius Scobel, who would be glad
to see Captain Winstanley at the Vicarage.

"I shall be charmed," he replied. "I never was so delighted with any
place as your Forest. It is a new world to me. I hate myself for having
lived in England so long without knowing this beautiful corner of the
land. I am staying with