Honor, as she toiled after this active middle-aged lady, said something civil and commonplace about London houses being necessarily different from those in the country. She was very desirous not to seem hard to please and troublesomely fastidious, but the style of architecture prevalent in Sandyshire not being of the kind to qualify for alpine climbing, she was thoroughly out of breath and exhausted on her arrival at the journey’s end,--an end which, judging from appearances, was calculated to give rather a poor idea of the means possessed by the gallant Colonel and his _soi-disant_ heiress wife. The little attic which Honor was instructed to call her room was tolerably clean; for, as I said before, the house was one of recent construction, and the various defilements incidental to a course of habitation by a succession of fourth-story lodgers had not as yet rendered the guest-chamber of No. 14 utterly unendurable. But although even Honor--fresh as she was from God’s blessed country, from farm-house cleanliness, and from the traditional scents of lavender and roses--could not have justly called that small upper chamber dirty, it was nevertheless anything but inviting to the eye. The roof was sloping and low; the furniture mean and shabby; there was no wardrobe, and the chest of drawers, as Honor saw at a glance, would scarcely hold even the limited supply of garments which she had brought with her to Stanwick-street. “It _is_ small, as you see,” remarked Mrs. Colonel Norcott deprecatingly; “but I hope you’ll be comfortable. House-rent is uncommonly dear in London in the season--and the Colonel likes to have everything comfortable--and so much expense coming on, you know.” She spoke the last words in a kind of confidential whisper, throwing a degree of playful significance over the implied suggestion. Honor, who did not know, but who felt that there was a _dessus les cartes_, could only look with a slightly puzzled air at her mysterious hostess; whereupon that lady, with what was intended for a pretty air of confusion, said: “Another time, when we know each other better, being both matrons--there need be no secrets between us. Ah, I see, there is hot water--the girl of the house is generally so careless--you will come down when you are ready. The Colonel is particular about his hours: so don’t be long, there’s a dear. The Colonel always goes to his club after dinner, and you wouldn’t like to keep him waiting. Can I do anything for you? No. Well, then, I will leave you to beautify;” and so saying, Mrs. Norcott betook herself to her own, namely, the adjoining and equally unprepossessing-looking sleeping chamber.