Upon this hint John arose, lighted a tallow candle and offered to conduct Mr. Bruce to his chamber. Young Ronald pressed the little hand that he held in the darkness and arose, bade the two women good-night and followed his host into the house. John, flaring tallow candle in hand, led the way up a plain, wide staircase to the second floor and to a large, old-fashioned back room, with paneled walls and polished plank floor, with tall windows looking full upon the precipice, and so near it that one leaning out might peel a piece of moss from the rock. The room was lighted by two “mould” candles in tall, silver-plated candlesticks that stood upon the top of a high, antique chest of drawers and on each side of a tall, oval mirror. The woodwork of all the furniture in the room, of the high post, canopied bedsteads, the antique chest of drawers, the ancient press, or wardrobe, the old escritoire, or bookcase and writing desk combined, the claw-footed sofa, the high-backed, hard “easy-chair,” and the spider-legged chairs and tables were all of the oldest and darkest mahogany. The draperies of the room, the curtains at the windows and the bedstead, the covers of the chairs and the sofa were all of English chintz, of large pattern, and once of “loud” colors, but now toned down to a general hue of faded flowers. “I see you looking around on the room with curiosity, sir. Yes, it _is_ old-timey! I reckon if these here old sticks of furniture had a tongue they could tell a tale—don’t you?” inquired John, as he placed his candlestick upon the high mantel-shelf. “Yes, doubtless,” mused Ronald Bruce. “But this is nothing to the manor-house, sir, though they do say this is older than that. But if you want to see a rale, gorgeous, old, ancient palace you come some day and see the manor-house, sir. Why, for one thing, there is a picture, large as life, of a court lady of the time of King David or Queen Mary, or some king or queen, I don’t remember which; but anyhow, it is hundreds of years ago, and the splendid colors are as bright and fresh as if it was painted only yesterday. But I am keeping you from sleep, sir; good-night,” said John, with a smile, as he took up his light to retire. “Good-night, and many thanks for all your kind attentions,” returned the young man. When John Palmer reached the family sitting-room he found all the household gathered around the table as a common center, discussing the merits of their guest. “He is really one of the most gentlemanly young men I ever saw in my life,” said Susan. “Hi, honey, what yer talkin’ ’bout! Ain’t he one ob de Bruces? An’ dey do tell me as the Bruces are ’cended from some r’yal fam’ly or other. Not dat I know, but so I hab heerd,” said Aunt Monica.