"See here! How do grapes grow? Or laburnums?" An idea broke in on him. "What! they be topsy-turvy?" he slowly observed, after looking from the faulty breadth to the next. "Of course they are. Find the rest of the paper! We must have a piece put on at once, or the whole appearance of the room is spoilt," said Captain Carbonel. "It will make a delay, but it must be done at once. Where is the piece left over?" Hewlett retreated to find it, while the captain said something about "stupid ass." Presently his gruff voice was heard demanding, "Dan, I say, where's the remnant of that there fancy paper?" Dan's answer did not rise into audible words, but presently Hewlett tramped back, saying, "There ain't none, sir." "I tell you there must be," returned the captain, in the same angry tones. And he proceeded to show that the number of pieces he had bought, and the measure of which he had ascertained, was such that there ought to have been half-a-piece left over from papering the room, the size of which he had exactly taken. Hewlett could do nothing but stolidly repeat that "there weren't none left, not enow to make a mouse's nest." "Who did the papering? Did you?" "Daniel Hewlett, sir, he did the most on it. My cousin, sir." The captain fell upon Daniel, who had more words at command, but was equally strong in denial of having any remnant. "They had only skimped out enough," he said, "just enough for the walls, and it was a close fit anyhow." The captain loudly declared it impossible, but Mary ran out in the midst to suggest that mayhap the defect was in the French measure. Each piece might not have been the true number of whatever they called them in that new revolutionary fashion. Dan Hewlett's face cleared up. "Ay, 'tis the French measure, sure, sir. Of course they can't do nothing true and straight! I be mortal sorry the ladies is disappointed, but it bain't no fault of mine, sir." "And look here, Edmund," continued Mary, "it will not spoil the room at all if Mr Hewlett will help move the tall bureau against it, and we'll hang the `Death of General Wolfe' above it, and then there won't be more than two bits of laburnum to be seen, even if you are curious enough to get upon a chair to investigate." "Well, it must be so," returned Captain Carbonel, "but I hate the idea of makeshifts and having imperfections concealed." "Just like you, Edmund," laughed Dora. "You will always seem to be looking right through at the upright sprays, though all the solid weight of Hume, Gibbon, and Rollin is in front of them." "Precisely," said Edmund. "It is not well to feel that there is anything to be hidden. The chief part of the vexation is, however," he added--shutting the door and lowering his voice--"that I am convinced that there must have been foul play somewhere." "Oh, Edmund; French measure!" "Nonsense! That does not account for at least a whole piece disappearing."