The great oak door stood hospitably open. At the inner glass door an old butler appeared, and was immediately despatched by the Squire to find his mistress, and inform her that her son had brought home two ladies who had experienced a carriage accident at the gates. Meantime Geoffrey led the way into the drawing-room, and while Elma rested thankfully against the cushions on her chair, Cornelia enjoyed her first view of a room in a typical English country house. It fascinated her by its very difference from the gorgeous apartments which took its place in her own country. Space, daintiness, simplicity--these were the first impressions. Long French windows standing open to a velvet stretch of lawn; deep chairs and couches covered with chintz; pale green walls and the fragrance of many flowers. A closer inspection showed the intrinsic value and beauty of each detail which went to make up the charming whole. Sheraton cabinets holding specimens of rare old china; ivory miniatures of Grevilles, dead and gone, simpering in pink-and-white beauty in the velvet cases on the walls; water-colours signed by world- famed artists; wonderful old sconces holding altar-like lines of candles; everywhere the eye turned, something beautiful, rare and interesting, and through it all an unobtrusive good taste, which placed the most precious articles in quiet corners, and filled the foreground with a bower of flowers. "It's just--gaudy!" said Cornelia to herself, using her favourite superlative with sublime disregard of suitability. She looked across the room to where Elma sat, resting her head against a brocaded blue cushion. One of the half-dozen cases of miniatures hung just behind the chair, and it was impossible not to notice the likeness between the living face and those portrayed on the ivory backgrounds. Actual similarity of feature might not exist, but the delicate colouring, the fine lines of the features, the loosened cloud of hair, made the resemblance striking enough. If some day Elma's own miniature should be added to the number, it would fully sustain the reputation for the beauty so long enjoyed by the women of the house. Coming back from the voyage of comparison, Cornelia's eyes met those of the Squire fixed upon her in a questioning fashion. He averted them instantly, but all his determination could not restrain the mantling blush which dyed his cheek, and she had little doubt that his own thoughts had been a duplicate of her own. Before the silence was broken, however, the door opened, and Mrs Greville entered the room. CHAPTER NINE.