Jane felt herself driven to defense--even to apology. "The fact is," she said, "pa is so quiet; he never says much of anything. I'm about the only one of the family who knows him very well, and I guess _I_ don't know him any too well." She felt, though, that Mrs. Bates had no right to defend her father against his own daughter; no, nor any need. "I suppose so," said Mrs. Bates slowly. She crossed over to the radiator and began working at the valve. "I _told_ Granger I knew he'd be sorry if he didn't put in furnace flues too. I really can't ask you to take your things off down here; let's go up-stairs--that's the only warm place I can think of." She paused in the hall. "Wouldn't you like to see the rest of the rooms before you go up?" "Yes--I don't mind," responded Jane. She was determined to encourage no ostentatious pride; so she made her acceptance as indifferent as she felt good manners would allow. Mrs. Bates crossed over the hall and paused in a wide doorway. "This," she indicated, in a tone slightly suggestive of the cicerone, "is the--well, the Grand Salon; at least, that's what the newspapers have decided to call it. Do you care anything for Louis Quinze?" Jane found herself on the threshold of a long and glittering apartment; it was full of the ornate and complicated embellishments of the eighteenth century--an exhibition of decorative whip-cracking. Grilles, panels, mirror frames, all glimmered in green and gold, and a row of lustres, each multitudinously candled, hung from the lofty ceiling. Jane felt herself on firmer ground here than in the library, whose general air of distinction, with no definite detail by way of guide-post, had rather baffled her. "Hem!" she observed critically, as her eyes roamed over the spacious splendor of the place; "quite an epitome of the whole rococo period; done, too, with a French grace and a German thoroughness. Almost a real _jardin d'hiver_, in fact. Very handsome indeed." Mrs. Bates pricked up her ears; she had not expected quite such a response as this. "You are posted on these things, then?" "Well," said Jane, "I belong to an art class. We study the different periods in architecture and decoration."