woods and fields
through a narrow framework of white dimity. Here were voluptuous
curtains and carpets that forbade sound, and denied the daylight. The
farm was my beau-ideal of a home; therefore my room at the farm was my
beau-ideal of a room; therefore all this comfort was oppressive and
ridiculous.

Miss Leonard did not come to seek me. Perhaps she was out. I guessed
there was a mistake, and made myself content. I declined the services of
a maid, unpacked my trunk, and laid out my dinner dress upon the bed.
After this I knew not what to do, and sat down to rest. I looked at the
swelling couch over whose cushions the firelight wavered drowsily. "We
are not likely to have velvet couches at the farm," I thought, "and it
is better to despise such foolish luxuries." So I drew out a
stiff-backed chair, and sat down to muse before the fire.

I soon got tired of this, for I could not think without conjuring up my
familiar wonders and forebodings, and these must be kept in the
background in order that I might conduct myself properly in this house.
I opened my door and looked around me. I knew the place well, but I did
not care to be seen roaming about before I had received a welcome from
my host or hostess. Weariness enabled me to overcome this difficulty,
and I presently found myself in the gallery where the pictures hung and
the curiosities were displayed in their cabinets; where chairs were
placed for people to sit upon, and screens erected to keep away the
draughts; and where the light from the dome in the roof fell mellowly
over the knight made of armour, who stood quite at the end of the
gallery, near a narrow staircase which led down to the back premises of
the house. This knight was an old friend. Mopsie had been very fond of a
nook formed by the angle of the wall at his back, and in the days of our
"readings" had dragged a deep-seated arm-chair from a near room, and
arranged a tall light screen behind his shoulders, forming a tiny
triangular chamber. When I came upon this retreat now I took possession
of it, for it was a pleasant place to sit in. The massive helmet of the
knight on his pedestal soared above the top of the screen, and stood out
in bold relief against the soft brilliance of the painted dome. I seated
myself in Mopsie's chair, and drew a little book from my pocket. In this
little book John had copied out for me some sweet quaint rhymes which
were favourites of his and mine, and because I had thought th