gold on
the papers. It lightens up so well."

"Yes, mum," replied Racey, rather intoxicated by his success, and now
drawing wildly on his imagination, "yes, mum, I should think you was
becustomed to walls that was made of gold all over, and--and--"
hesitating how to make his sarcasm biting enough, "and floors made of
diamonds and pessus stones, and--"

"Racey, hush," said Tom, "you're talking out of the Bible. Isn't he,
Audrey?"

I was not quite prepared to give an opinion.

"Pierson doesn't talk like that, any way," I said, without committing
myself. "Let's go on about there not being enough rooms for the
servants. She did say that."

"And about her pet dogs," suggested Tom.

"Oh yes," I said, in the affected squeaky voice which we imagined to be
an exact copy of the way of speaking of the lady who had taken such a
hold on our fancy, "oh dear yes--I _must_ have a very good room for my
dear dogs. They are never allowed to sleep in a room without a fire, and
I am so afraid this chimney smokes."

"No, mum, it's _me_ that smokes, mum, not the chimney, mum. Sometimes I
have a cigar, mum, in my room, mum, and a room that's good enough for me
must be good enough for your dogs, mum," said Tom, the imaginary Banks.

We all three shouted with laughter at his wit, though poor Banks, the
most modest of young men, whose only peculiarity was that in his
nervousness he used to say "ma'am" or "sir" with every two words, would
have been horrified if he had known how Tom was caricaturing him. We
were still laughing when the door opened suddenly and mother with some
_real_ ladies, to whom she was showing the house, came in.

There were two ladies--a not very particular one, just rather nice, but
we didn't notice her very much, and a much younger one whom we noticed
in a minute. It was partly I think because of her pretty hair, which was
that bright goldy kind that looks as if the sun was always shining on
it. Mine is a _little_ like that, but not so bright as aun--oh, I
forgot; you wouldn't understand. And her hair showed more because of her
being all dressed in black--regular black because of somebody belonging
to her being dead I mean. She came last into the room, of course that
was right because she was youngest, and mother came in first to open the
door like--I can remember quite well the way they all stood for a
minute.

"This is the nursery, I see," said the nothing particular lady. "Well,
with me it would not be that,