The walls were lined with pictures of sacred subjects and moral exordiums in Oxford frames. There was an altar with prayer books ostentatiously arranged, and a cushion for her to kneel upon when at her devotions. She looked at me for approval, and I said that prayer chastened and purified. "It is what it will do for me, dear John. However earnest and wishful to do right one may be there are always little crosses. I intended this room for your study, but I felt that you would rather I put it to its present use." "Then there is no study in the house for me?" "No, dear. We can't have everything we wish. I thought you might take a room elsewhere for your literary work. You can go and scribble there whenever you feel inclined; it will be so much better for you. There will be nothing to disturb you--no sweeping and scrubbing of floors and difficulties with servants, which put men out so. You see how I thought of you while I was arranging things. There are some nice quiet streets off the Strand where you can take chambers and be comfortable and cosy. If you had a business in the city you would have to go to it every morning, so it is just as if you were a business man. We shall dine at home at half-past six. I shall expect you to be very punctual, or the cooking will be spoilt and the cook will give notice. Oh, the worry of servants! But I take all that on myself." I was not displeased at the arrangement. Had it been left to me I should have chosen it, so I said I was quite satisfied, and she clapped her hands and kissed me. "I have an agreeable surprise for you," she then said. "Maxwell is in London." "You have seen him?" "Oh, yes, every day almost. He has been of immense assistance to me in choosing furniture and wall paper, and managing the people who did the work. If it hadn't been for him I should have been dreadfully imposed upon, and it would have been ever so much out of your pocket. You will be glad to hear that he will dine with us this evening." I said I should be glad to see him; and indeed it was a matter of indifference to me, but I determined to be on my guard against him. "I was angry with him," she continued, "for not meeting us in Geneva, as he promised; but he couldn't, poor fellow. He met with an accident, and had to lay up in a poky little village in Italy. It is such a comfort to me that he is near us. There is no one like our own." "Is he living in London?" "For the present. He has been unfortunate and has lost a lot of money--the stupid fellow is so trustful. He went security for a friend and was taken in. Don't you go security for people, John, it's a mistake. I have another surprise for you. 'Our first dinner in our dear little home shall be an unexpected pleasure to John,' I said to myself, when I was looking over my letters, and came across one from your mother." "My stepmother, Barbara."