rse. But you might have fancied the
fairies had carved it. Then, Mrs. Wishart, there was an arrangement of
glasses over the gas burners, which produced the most silver sounds of
music you ever heard; no chime, you know, of course; but a most
peculiar, sweet, mysterious succession of musical breathings. Add to
that, by means of some invisible vaporizers, the whole air was filled
with sweetness; now it was orange flowers, and now it was roses, and
then again it would be heliotrope or violets; I never saw anything so
refined and so exquisite in my life. Waves of sweetness, rising and
falling, coming and going, and changing; it was perfect."

The little lady delivered herself of this description with much
animation, accompanying the latter part of it with a soft waving of her
hand; which altogether overcame Philip's gravity, and he burst into a
laugh, in which Mr. Burrage presently joined him; and Lois and Madge
found it impossible not to follow.

"What's the matter, Philip?" the lady asked.

"I am reminded of an old gentleman I once saw at Gratz; he was copying
the Madonna della Seggia in a mosaic made with the different-coloured
wax heads of matches."

"He must have been out of his head."

"That was the conclusion I came to."

"Pray what brought him to your remembrance just then?"

"I was thinking of the different ways people take in the search after
happiness."

"And one worth as much as another, I suppose you mean? That is a matter
of taste. Mrs. Wishart, I see _your_ happiness is cared for, in having
such charming friends with you. O, by the way!--talking of
seeing,--_have_ you seen Dulles & Grant's new Persian rugs and carpets?"

"I have been hardly anywhere. I wanted to take Madge to see Brett's
Collection of Paintings; but I have been unequal to any exertion."

"Well, the first time you go anywhere, go to Dulles & Grant's. Take her
to see those. Pictures are common; but these Turkish rugs and things
are not. They are the most exquisite, the most odd, the most delicious
things you ever saw. I have been wanting to ruin myself with them ever
since I saw them. It's high art, really. Those Orientals are wonderful
people! There is one rug--it is as large as this floor, nearly,--well,
it is covered with medallions in old gold, set in a wild, irregular
design of all sorts of Cashmere shawl colours--thrown about anyhow; and
yet the effect is rich beyond description; simple, too. Another,--O,
that is very rare; it