out collar or cape, contrasted effectively with the cavalier's
laced doublet and feathered hat.

Gone were the Early Victorian portraits; gone the big glass cases of
stuffed birds and weasels; gone the round mahogany table, the waxen
bouquets, and the horsehair chairs. The ancient tapestry beside the
carven balustrade of the staircase remained, but it had been cleaned,
and even mended.

An oak dresser, black with age, and laden with blue and white
china, lurked in a shadowy corner. Comfortable easy-chairs and odd,
old-fashioned settees furnished the hall. In the oriel window stood a
spinning-wheel and a grandfather's chair. A great bowl of roses stood
on the broad window-seat. There were roses, indeed, everywhere, and
books on every table. But the crowning grievance of all was the
cottage piano which John had sent to Lady Mary. The case had been
specially made of hand-carven oak to match the room as nearly as might
be. It was open, and beside it was a heap of music, and on it another
bowl of roses.

"Ay, you may well look horrified," said Miss Crewys to the canon,
whose admiration and delight were very plainly depicted on his
rubicund countenance. "Where are our cloaks and umbrellas? That's what
I say to Isabella. Where are our goloshes? Where is anything, indeed,
that one would expect to find in a gentleman's hall? Not so much as a
walking-stick. Everything to be kept in the outer hall, where tramps
could as easily step in and help themselves; but our poor foolish
Mary fancies that Peter will be delighted to find his old home turned
upside down."

"My belief is," said Lady Belstone, "that Peter will just insist on
all this wooden rubbish trotting back to the attics, where my dear
granny, not being accustomed to wooden furniture, very properly hid it
away. If you will believe me, canon, that dresser was brought up from
the _kitchen_, and every single pot and pan that decorates it used to
be kept in the housekeeper's room. That lumbering old chest was in
the harness-room. Pretty ornaments for a gentleman's sitting-room! If
Peter has grown up anything like my poor brother, he won't put up with
it at all."

"I suppose, in one sense, it's Peter's house, or will be very
shortly?" said the canon.

"In _every_ sense it's Peter's house," cried Lady Belstone; "and he
comes of age, thank Heaven, in October."

"I had hoped to hear he had sailed," said the canon. "No news is good
news, I hope."

"The last telegram said