And in this ignoble fashion Winthrop took possession of Waynewood. [Illustration] V. True to his promise, Uncle Ran bore Winthrop “careful and comfortable” up the wide stairs, around the turn and along the upper hall to the West Chamber, lowering him at last, as tenderly as a basket of eggs, into a chair. In spite of his boasts, Winthrop was in no condition to have walked up-stairs unaided. The fainting spell, the first one since he had left the sanitarium, had left him feeling limp and shaky. He was glad of the negro’s assistance and content to have him remove his shoes and help him off with his coat, the while he examined his quarters with lazy interest. The room was very large, square, high-ceilinged. The walls were white and guiltless of both paper and pictures. Four large windows would have flooded the room with light had not the shades been carefully drawn to within two feet of the sills. As it was, from the windows overlooking the garden and opening onto the gallery the afternoon sunlight slanted in, throwing long parallelograms of mellow gold across the worn and faded carpet. The bed was a massive affair of black walnut, the three chairs were old and comfortable, and the big mahogany-veneer table in the centre of the room was large enough to have served for a banquet. On it was a lamp, a plate of oranges whose fragrance was pleasantly perceptible, and a copy of Pilgrim’s Progress bound in the “keepsake” fashion of fifty years ago. The fire-place and hearth were of soft red bricks and a couple of oak logs were flaring brightly. A formidable wardrobe, bedecked with carved branches of grapes, matched the bed, as did a washstand backed by a white “splasher” bearing a design of cat-tails in red outline. The room seemed depressingly bare at first, but for all of that there was an air of large hospitality and plain comfort about it that was somewhat of a relief after the over-furnished, over-decorated apartments with which Winthrop was familiar. As his baggage had not come Miss India’s command could not be literally obeyed, and Uncle Ran had perforce to be satisfied with the removal of Winthrop’s outer apparel and his installation on the bed instead of in it. “I’ll get yo’ trunk an’ valise right away, sir,” he said, “before they close the depot. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Winthrop? Can I fetch you a lil’ glass of sherry, sir?” “Nothing, thanks. Yes, though, you might open some of those windows before you go. And look in my vest pocket and toss me a cigarette case you’ll find there. I saw matches on the mantel, didn’t I? Thanks. That’s all. My compliments to Miss Wayne, and tell her I am feeling much better and that I will be down to dinner――that is, supper.” “Don’t you pay no ’tention to the bell,” said Uncle Ran, soothingly. “Phœbe’ll fetch yo’ supper up to you, sir. I’ll jes’ go ’long now and get yo’ trunk.”