stead of walking home to
Denham Terrace, she turned into the town instead. Miss Joyce had a
studio in Pilgrims' Inn Chambers, a collection of rooms let as offices
and flats in a big old house near the river. In pre-Reformation times it
had been a hostelry for the use of pilgrims, who came to visit the
miraculous shrine at the little chapel on the bridge, and since then it
had passed through many vicissitudes and had fallen on evil days, till a
public-spirited citizen had taken compassion on its dilapidated
condition and had bought it, caused it to be carefully restored, and had
let it to various tenants. It was a beautiful example of mediaeval
architecture, and its quaint gables and timbered walls were built round
a courtyard of cobbled stones. Lesbia, passing under a carved doorway
and up a black oak staircase, felt as if she stepped into an atmosphere
of five or six hundred years ago. Miss Joyce's studio was a large,
quaint room with a raftered roof of ancient beams, and had latticed
windows at either end, looking out upon the courtyard and upon the
river. She held classes here for several kinds of art work, and tables
were covered with specimens of her own or her pupils' paintings and
handicrafts. Lesbia stared, fascinated by the display, and Miss Joyce
left her to look round while she lighted a gas ring, put on a kettle and
took some cups and saucers from a cupboard.

"We must have studio tea before we do anything," she decreed. "I always
need tea horribly at this hour of the day, and I'm very cross if I can't
get it. Take that comfy chair, Lesbia. We'll go through the designs
afterwards."

"What a heavenly room!" said Lesbia, leaning back in a picturesque
wicker armchair and holding a pale-yellow teacup in her hand, and a
plate with a slice of walnut-cake on her knee. "It's too delightful and
quaint for words. Are you here most of the day? Lucky you!"

"I have my classes at the High School, of course, but I give most of my
lessons here, and do my own work too. Sometimes when I'm very busy and
want to stay late I even sleep here. I have a little bedroom through
that doorway."

"Sleep here! All alone! Aren't you frightened?"

"Not a bit."

"I should be scared to death. The whole place feels haunted. At midnight
I'm sure it would be full of ghosts."

"I've never seen or heard any of them yet," smiled Miss Joyce. "If
they're here they don't disturb me at any rate. I'm a sound sleeper and
I never think about th