through the house, and all through the way of life in it, there
prevailed a "note" of simplicity, even of plainness. The odd thing,
perhaps, was that it pleased almost every one who visited the young
couple. A certain well-known man, noted as a Sybarite, clever, decadent
and sought after, once got into the house, he pretended by stealth,
and spent half an hour there in conversation with Rosamund. He came way
"acutely conscious of my profound vulgarity," as he explained later to
various friends. "Her house revealed to me the hideous fact that all the
best houses in London smack of cocotte-try; the trail of cushions and
liqueurs is over them all. Mrs. Leith's house is a vestal, and its lamp
is always trimmed." Daventry's comment on this was: "Trimmed--yes, but
trimmings--no!"

Even Esme Darlington highly approved of the "charming sobriety of No. 5
Little Market Street," although he had had no hand in its preparation,
no voice in the deciding of its colors, its stuffs, its rugs, or its
stair-rods. He was even heard to declare that "our dear Rosamund is
almost the only woman I know who has the precious instinct of reticence;
an instinct denied, by the way, even to that delightful and marvelous
creature Elizabeth Browning--_requiescat_."

The "charming sobriety" was shown in various ways; in a lack of those
enormous cushions which most women either love, or think necessary, in
all sitting-rooms; in the comparative smallness of such sofas as were to
be seen; in the moderation of depth in arm-chairs, and in the complete
absence of footstools. Then the binding of the many books, scattered
about here and there, and ranged on shelves, was "quiet"; there was no
scarlet and gold, or bright blue and gold; pictures were good but few;
not many rugs lay on the polished wooden floors, and there was no
litter of ornaments or bibelots on cabinets or tables. A couple of small
statuettes, copies of bronzes in the Naples Museum, and some bits of
blue-and-white china made their pleasant effect the more easily because
they had not to fight against an army of rivals. There was some good
early English glass in the small dining-room, and a few fine specimens
of luster ware made a quiet show in Dion's little den. Apart from the
white curtains, and outer curtains of heavier material, which hung at
all the windows, there were no "draperies." Overmantels, "cosy-corners,"
flung Indian shawls, "pieces" snatched from bazaars, and "carelessly"
hung ove