a long walk upon him. Having been so
careful about his boots and gloves he might as well use his care to
the end. Madame Goesler was a very pretty woman, who spared herself
no trouble in making herself as pretty as Nature would allow, on
behalf of those whom she favoured with her smiles; and to such a lady
some special attention was due by one who had received so many of her
smiles as had Phineas. And he felt, too, that there was something
special in this very visit. It was to be made by appointment, and
there had come to be an understanding between them that Phineas
should tell her on this occasion what was his resolution with
reference to his future life. I think that he had been very wise in
fortifying himself with a further glance at our dear Mary's letter,
before he trusted himself within Madame Goesler's door.

Yes;--Madame Goesler was at home. The door was opened by Madame
Goesler's own maid, who, smiling, explained that the other servants
were all at church. Phineas had become sufficiently intimate at the
cottage in Park Lane to be on friendly terms with Madame Goesler's
own maid, and now made some little half-familiar remark as to the
propriety of his visit during church time. "Madame will not refuse to
see you, I am thinking," said the girl, who was a German. "And she
is alone?" asked Phineas. "Alone? Yes;--of course she is alone. Who
should be with her now?" Then she took him up into the drawing-room;
but, when there, he found that Madame Goesler was absent. "She shall
be down directly," said the girl. "I shall tell her who is here, and
she will come."

It was a very pretty room. It may almost be said that there could be
no prettier room in all London. It looked out across certain small
private gardens,--which were as bright and gay as money could make
them when brought into competition with London smoke,--right on to
the park. Outside and inside the window, flowers and green things
were so arranged that the room itself almost looked as though it
were a bower in a garden. And everything in that bower was rich and
rare; and there was nothing there which annoyed by its rarity or was
distasteful by its richness. The seats, though they were costly as
money could buy, were meant for sitting, and were comfortable as
seats. There were books for reading, and the means of reading them.
Two or three gems of English art were hung upon the walls, and
could be seen backwards and forwards in the mirrors. And there
were