"No, I dare say not! I forgot you had been living among the whigs of Newcastle, who would sell their elector as soon as their king, if they could make any thing by it. But you must learn better now. I shall make it my business to teach you. See, here is the Bible his Majesty used, and the chair where he sat. But we must not stay too long here; these shut up rooms are damp. Niece Leighton, if you ever come to be mistress of this house, as I hope you may, you must dust this room with your own hands, four times a year, and mind you lay everything down in just the place you took it up. Will you promise me this?" "Indeed I will, aunt!" answered Amabel, sincerely desirous to atone for the offence she had given. "Where do these doors lead to?" she added, as we passed the locked doors on our way back to the other part of the house. "Those are the shut up rooms. They are never used or opened!" answered Mrs. Deborah abruptly. "Come, we will see the other wing." Of course we asked no more questions, but we were all the more curious especially, as these shut up rooms adjoined our own. Mrs. Deborah showed us the state bedroom, very grand in red satin, with needlework hangings, all a little the worse for wear—the blue room, the white room; her own apartment which was very plain, in green moreen, and Mrs. Chloe's, gay and pretty with Indian chintz, and a white muslin and pink silk toilette-table, covered with bottles of all sorts of washes and lotions for the complexion. Finally, she led us to the door of Mrs. Philippa's apartment, and left us to announce ourselves, telling us to come to her in the still-room, when Mrs. Philippa had done with us. We knocked, and were admitted by Tupper. Mrs. Philippa, dressed in a very becoming wrapping-gown and cap, was sitting up in bed, working on a very handsome piece of embroidery, with her silks and working implements on a sort of tray beside her, near which lay a fine tortoise-shell cat with a kitten. There was a great fire, and the air was heavy and close with the odors of musk, and sandalwood, and potpourri. I never entered that room without a kind of insane longing to break out a window-pane. "Well, nieces, and so you have come at last," was Mrs. Philippa's greeting. "I expected you before, but no doubt more interesting matters claimed your attention than waiting on a poor lonely invalid." "Aunt Deborah said she thought you would not wish to see us very early, and she has been showing us the king's chamber and the rest of the house," answered Amabel. "Oh, of course. She makes an idol out of her king's chamber—not that I believe King Charles was ever in this house in the world. Well, and what do you think of the old pile?" "I think it is beautiful," answered Amabel, sincerely. "I wonder my father does not live here all the time."