Nobody

Children – country folks —and savages, I ought to have said."

"Orientals are not savages. On the contrary, very far exceeding inpoliteness any western nation I know of."

"You would set a table, then, with napkins and fingers! Or are thenapkins not essential?"

"C'est selon," said Dillwyn. "In a strawberry bed, or under a cherrytree, I should vote them a nuisance. At an Asiatic grandee's table youwould have them embroidered and perfumed; and one for your lap andanother for your lips."

"Evidently they are long past the stage of simplicity. Talking ofnapkins we had them embroidered – and exquisitely – Japanese work; at theDe Larges'. Mine had a peacock in one corner; or I don't know if it wasa peacock; it was a gay-feathered bird – "

"A peacock has a tail," suggested Mr. Dillwyn.

"Well, I don't know whether it had a tail, but it was most exquisite;in blue and red and gold; I never saw anything prettier. And at everyplate were such exquisite gifts! really elegant, you know. Flowers areall very well; but when it comes to jewellery, I think it is a littlebeyond good taste. Everybody can't do it, you know; and it is ratherembarrassing to nous autres."

"Simplicity has its advantages," observed Mr. Dillwyn.

"Nonsense, Philip! You are as artificial a man as any one I know."

"In what sense?" asked Mr. Dillwyn calmly. "You are bound to explain, for the sake of my character, that I do not wear false heels to myboots."

"Don't be ridiculous! You have no need to wear false heels. Art neednot be false, need it?"

"True art never is," said Mr. Dillwyn, amid some laughter.

"Well, artifice, then?"

"Artifice, I am afraid, is of another family, and not allied to truth."

"Well, everybody that knows you knows you are true; but they know, too, that if ever there was a fastidious man, it is you; and a man thatwants everything at its last pitch of refinement."

"Which desirable stage I should say the luncheon you were describinghad not reached."

"You don't know. I had not told you the half. Fancy! – the ice floatedin our glasses in the form of pond lilies; as pretty as possible, withbroad leaves and buds."

"How did they get it in such shapes?" asked Madge, with her eyes atrifle wider open than was usual with them.

"O, froze it in moulds, of course. But you might have fancied thefairies had carved it. Then, Mrs. Wishart, there was an arrangement ofglasses over the gas burners, which produced the most silver sounds ofmusic you ever heard; no chime, you know, of course; but a mostpeculiar, sweet, mysterious succession of musical breathings. Add tothat, by means of some invisible vaporizers, the whole air was filledwith sweetness; now it was orange flowers, and now it was roses, andthen again it would be heliotrope or violets; I never saw anything sorefined and so exquisite in my life. Waves of sweetness, rising andfalling, coming and going, and changing; it was perfect."

The little lady delivered herself of this description with muchanimation, accompanying the latter part of it with a soft waving of herhand; which altogether overcame Philip's gravity, and he burst into alaugh, in which Mr. Burrage presently joined him; and Lois and Madgefound 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 copyingthe Madonna della Seggia in a mosaic made with the different-colouredwax 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 afterhappiness."

"And one worth as much as another, I suppose you mean? That is a matterof taste. Mrs. Wishart, I see your happiness is cared for, in havingsuch charming friends with you. O, by the way! – talking ofseeing, —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 herto see those. Pictures are common; but these Turkish rugs and thingsare not. They are the most exquisite, the most odd, the most deliciousthings you ever saw. I have been wanting to ruin myself with them eversince I saw them. It's high art, really. Those Orientals are wonderfulpeople! 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, irregulardesign of all sorts of Cashmere shawl colours – thrown about anyhow; andyet the effect is rich beyond description; simple, too. Another, – O,that is very rare; it is a rare Keelum carpet; let me see if I candescribe it. The ground is a full bright red. Over this run palm leavesand little bits of ruby and maroon and gold mosaic; and between thepalm leaves come great ovals of olive mixed with black, blue, andyellow; shading off into them. I never saw anything I wanted so much."

"What price?"

"O, they are all prices. The Keelum carpet is only fifteen hundred – butmy husband says it is too much. Then another Persian carpet has acentre of red and white. Round this a border of palm leaves. Roundthese another border of deliciously mixed up warm colours; warm andrich. Then another border of palms; and then the rest of the carpet isin blended shades of dark dull red and pink, with olive flowers thrownover it. O, I can't tell you the half. You must go and see. They haveimmensely wide borders, all of them; and great thick, soft piles."

"Have you been to Brett's Collection?"

"Yes."

"What is there?"

"The usual thing. O, but I haven't told you what I have come here forto-night."

"I thought it was, to see me."

"Yes, but not for pleasure, this time," said the lively lady, laughing."I had business – I really do have business sometimes. I came thisevening, because I wanted to see you when I could have a chance toexplain myself. Mrs. Wishart, I want you to take my place. They havemade me first directress of the Forlorn Children's Home."

"Does the epithet apply to the place? or to the children?" Mr. Dillwynasked.

"Now I cannot undertake the office," Mrs. Burrage went on withoutheeding him. "My hands are as full as they can hold, and my headfuller. You must take it, Mrs. Wishart. You are just the person."

"I?" said Mrs. Wishart, with no delighted expression. "What are theduties?"

"O, just oversight, you know; keeping things straight. Everybody needsto be kept up to the mark. I cannot, for our Reading Club meets just atthe time when I ought to be up at the Home."

The ladies went into a closer discussion of the subject in its variousbearings; and Mr. Dillwyn and Madge returned to their chess play. Loislay watching and thinking. Mr. Burrage looked on at the chess-board, and made remarks on the game languidly. By and by the talk of the twoladies ceased, and the head of Mrs. Burrage came round, and she alsostudied the chess-players. Her face was observant and critical, Loisthought; oddly observant and thoughtful.

"Where did you get such charming friends to stay with you, Mrs.

Wishart? You are to be envied."

Mrs. Wishart explained, how Lois had been ill, and had come to get wellunder her care.

"You must bring them to see me. Will you? Are they fond of music? Bringthem to my next musical evening."

And then she rose; but before taking leave she tripped across to Lois'scouch and came and stood quite close to her, looking at her for amoment in what seemed to the girl rather an odd silence.

"You aren't equal to playing chess yet?" was her equally odd abruptquestion. Lois's smile showed some amusement.

"My brother is such an idle fellow, he has got nothing better to dothan to amuse sick people. It's charity to employ him. And when you areable to come out, if you'll come to me, you shall hear some good music.Good-bye!"