outlook on the garden and St.
Cyprian's, a certain measure of the Oxford charm. The furniture was
extremely simple--a large hanging cupboard made by curtaining one of the
panelled recesses of the wall, a chest of drawers, a bed, a small
dressing-table and glass, a carpet that was the remains of one which had
originally covered the drawing-room for many years, an armchair, a
writing-table, and curtains which having once been blue had now been
dyed a serviceable though ugly dark red. In Nora's eyes it was all
comfortable and nice. She herself had insisted on having the carpet and
curtains redipped, so that they really looked almost new, and the one
mattress on the bed "made over"; she had brought up the armchair, and
she had gathered the cherry-blossoms, which stood on the mantelpiece
shining against the darkness of the walls. She had also hung above it a
photograph of Watts "Love and Death." Nora looked at the picture and the
flowers with a throb of pleasure. Alice never noticed such things.

And now what about the maid? Fancy bringing a maid! Nora's sentiments on
the subject were extremely scornful. However Connie had simply taken it
for granted, and she had been housed somehow. Nora climbed up an attic
stair and looked into a room which had a dormer window in the roof, two
strips of carpet on the boards, a bed, a washing-stand, a painted chest
of drawers, a table, with an old looking-glass, and two chairs. "Well,
that's all I have!" thought Nora defiantly. But a certain hospitable or
democratic instinct made her go downstairs again and bring up a small
vase of flowers like those in Connie's room, and put it on the maid's
table. The maid was English, but she had lived a long time abroad with
the Risboroughs.

Sounds! Yes, that was the fly stopping at the front door! Nora flew
downstairs, in a flush of excitement. Alice too had come out into the
hall, looking shy and uncomfortable. Dr. Hooper emerged from his study.
He was a big, loosely built man, with a shock of grizzled hair,
spectacles, and a cheerful expression.

A tall, slim girl, in a grey dust-cloak and a large hat, entered the
dark panelled hall, looking round her. "Welcome, my dear Connie!" said
Dr. Hooper, cordially, taking her hand and kissing her. "Your train must
have been a little late."

"Twenty minutes!" said Mrs. Hooper, who had followed her niece into the
hall. "And the draughts in the station, Ewen, were something appalling."

The tone was fretfu