'I assure you I take no objection to the fact of your having slept here,' he replied gallantly. Kate blushed, and an awkward silence followed. As Mr. Lennox looked round an expression of dissatisfaction passed over his face. It was a much poorer place than the drawing-room. Religion and poverty went there hand-in-hand. A rickety iron bedstead covered with another patchwork quilt occupied the centre of the room, and there was a small chest of drawers in white wood placed near the fireplace--the smallest and narrowest in the world. Upon the black painted chimney-piece a large red apple made a spot of colour. The carpet was in rags, and the lace blinds were torn, and hung like fishnets. Mr. Lennox apparently was not satisfied, but when his eyes fell upon Kate it was clear that he thought that so pretty a woman might prove a compensation. But the pious exhortations hanging on the walls seemed to cause him a certain uneasiness. Above the washstand there were two cards bearing the inscriptions, 'Thou art my hope,' 'Thou art my will'; and these declarations of faith were written within a painted garland of lilies and roses. 'I see that you're religious.' 'I'm afraid not so much as I should be, sir.' 'Well, I don't know so much about that; the place is covered with Bible texts.' 'Those were put there by my mother-in-law. She is very good.' 'Oh ah,' said Mr. Lennox, apparently much relieved by the explanation. 'Old people are very pious, generally, aren't they? But this patchwork quilt is yours, I suppose?' 'Yes, sir; I made it myself,' said Kate, blushing. He made several attempts at conversation, but she did not respond, her whole mind being held up by the thought: 'Is he going to take the rooms, I wonder?' At last he said: 'I like these apartments very well; and you say that I can have breakfast here?' 'Oh, you can have anything you order, sir. I, or my mother, will--' 'Very well, then; we may consider the matter settled. I'll tell them to send down my things from the theatre.'