as larks;--so the place is quite lively, Passon, I do assure you, 'specially for a woman like me which have had it all to myself and lonesome like for many years. I've made Kitty useful, too, dustin' and polishin'--gels can't begin their trainin' too early, and all has been going on fine;--not but what there's a mighty sight of eatin' and drinkin' now, but it's the Lord's will that human bein's should feed even as the pigs do, 'specially domestic servants, and there's no helpin' of it nor hinderin'--but this mornin's business did put me out a bit, and I do assure you I haven't got over it yet, but howsomever, Spruce says 'Do yer dooty!'--and I'm a-doin' it to the best of my belief and, 'ope--still it do make my mind a bit ricketty--" Silently Walden followed her through the rooms, saying little in response to her remarks, 'ricketty' or otherwise, and noting all the various changes as he went. In the dining-room there was a great transformation. The fine old Cordova leather chairs were all released from their brown holland coverings,--the long-concealed Flemish tapestries were again unrolled and disclosed to the light of day--valuable canvases that had been turned to the wall to save their colour from the too absorbing sunshine, were now restored to their proper positions, and portraits by Vandyke, and landscapes by Corot gave quite a stately air of occupation to a room, which being large and lofty, had always seemed to Walden the loneliest in the house for lack of a living presence. He trod in the restless wake of Mrs. Spruce, however, without comment other than a word of praise such as she expected, for the general result of her labours in getting the long-disused residence into habitable condition, and was only moved to something like enthusiasm when he reached what was called 'the morning room,' an apartment originally intended to serve as a boudoir for that beautiful Mrs. Vancourt, the bride who never came home. Here all the furniture was of the daintiest design,--here rich cushions of silk and satin were lavishly piled on the luxurious sofas and in the deep easy-chairs,--curtains of cream brocade embroidered by hand with garlands of roses, draped the sides of the deep embrasured window- nook whence two wide latticed doors opened outwards to a smooth terrace bordered with flowers, where two gardeners were busy rolling the rich velvety turf,--and beyond it stretched a great lawn shaded with ancient oaks and elms that must have seen the days of Henry VII. The prospect was fair and soothing to the eyes, and Walden. gazing at it, gave a little involuntary sigh of pleasure. "This is beautiful!" he said, speaking more to himself than to anyone--"Perfectly beautiful!"