room within--very light and bright
indeed it seemed to eyes which, for the last hour, had been striving to
penetrate the double darkness of night and fog; but except for its
excellent fire, and for a lamp of elegant design and vivid lustre
burning on a table, it was a very plain place. The boarded floor was
carpetless; the three or four stiff-backed, green-painted chairs seemed
once to have furnished the kitchen of some farm-house; a desk of strong,
solid formation, the table aforesaid, and some framed sheets on the
stone-coloured walls, bearing plans for building, for gardening, designs
of machinery, etc., completed the furniture of the place.

Plain as it was, it seemed to satisfy Malone, who, when he had removed
and hung up his wet surtout and hat, drew one of the rheumatic-looking
chairs to the hearth, and set his knees almost within the bars of the
red grate.

"Comfortable quarters you have here, Mr. Moore; and all snug to
yourself."

"Yes, but my sister would be glad to see you, if you would prefer
stepping into the house."

"Oh no! The ladies are best alone, I never was a lady's man. You don't
mistake me for my friend Sweeting, do you, Mr. Moore?"

"Sweeting! Which of them is that? The gentleman in the chocolate
overcoat, or the little gentleman?"

"The little one--he of Nunnely; the cavalier of the Misses Sykes, with
the whole six of whom he is in love, ha! ha!"

"Better be generally in love with all than specially with one, I should
think, in that quarter."

"But he is specially in love with one besides, for when I and Donne
urged him to make a choice amongst the fair bevy, he named--which do you
think?"

With a queer, quiet smile Mr. Moore replied, "Dora, of course, or
Harriet."

"Ha! ha! you've an excellent guess. But what made you hit on those two?"

"Because they are the tallest, the handsomest, and Dora, at least, is
the stoutest; and as your friend Mr. Sweeting is but a little slight
figure, I concluded that, according to a frequent rule in such cases, he
preferred his contrast."

"You are right; Dora it is. But he has no chance, has he, Moore?"

"What has Mr. Sweeting besides his curacy?"

This question seemed to tickle Malone amazingly. He laughed for full
three minutes before he answered it.

"What has Sweeting? Why, David has his harp, or flute, which comes to
the same thing. He has a sort of pinchbeck watch; ditto, ring; ditto,
eyeglass. That's what he has."

"How would he propo