odest
share of a very slender dish of chicken fricasseed, and a few cherries
daintily arranged on vine leaves, which Lily selected for him, contented
him,--as probably a very little ambrosia contented Romulus while
feasting his eyes on Hebe.

Luncheon over, while Mrs. Cameron wrote her reply to Elsie, Kenelm
was conducted by Lily into her own _own_ room, in vulgar parlance her
_boudoir_, though it did not look as if any one ever _bouder'd_ there.
It was exquisitely pretty,--pretty not as a woman's, but as a child's
dream of the own _own_ room she would like to have,--wondrously neat and
cool, and pure-looking; a trellis paper, the trellis gay with roses and
woodbine, and birds and butterflies; draperies of muslin, festooned with
dainty tassels and ribbons; a dwarf bookcase, that seemed well stored,
at least as to bindings; a dainty little writing-table in French
_marqueterie_, looking too fresh and spotless to have known hard
service. The casement was open, and in keeping with the trellis paper;
woodbine and roses from without encroached on the window-sides, gently
stirred by the faint summer breeze, and wafted sweet odours into the
little room. Kenelm went to the window, and glanced on the view beyond.
"I was right," he said to himself; "I divined it." But though he
spoke in a low inward whisper, Lily, who had watched his movements in
surprise, overheard.

"You divined it. Divined what?"

"Nothing, nothing; I was but talking to myself."

"Tell me what you divined: I insist upon it!" and Fairy petulantly
stamped her tiny foot on the floor.

"Do you? Then I obey. I have taken a lodging for a short time on the
other side of the brook,--Cromwell Lodge,--and seeing your house as I
passed, I divined that your room was in this part of it. How soft here
is the view of the water! Ah! yonder is Izaak Walton's summer-house."

"Don't talk about Izaak Walton, or I shall quarrel with you, as I did
with Lion when he wanted me to like that cruel book."

"Who is Lion?"

"Lion,--of course, my guardian. I called him Lion when I was a little
child. It was on seeing in one of his books a print of a lion playing
with a little child."

"Ah! I know the design well," said Kenelm, with a slight sigh. "It is
from an antique Greek gem. It is not the lion that plays with the child,
it is the child that masters the lion, and the Greeks called the child
'Love.'"

This idea seemed beyond Lily's perfect comprehension. She paused before
s