By this time the voyage had ended and they were in Warwickshire, visiting an English friend of Mrs. Morris. It was while there that they went one afternoon to drink tea with Lady Margaret Vincent. Lady Margaret was a Scotchwoman. She had married an Englishman (long since dead), and for many years had lived in England, but she travelled far and often, having even been to America, which is considered a prodigious journey in England. Edmund was charmed with Lady Margaret's home. He could not look enough at the quaint old garden with its formal flower-beds and primly cut yew-trees, or the wonderful old house, the front of which had not been changed since Henry and Elizabeth. As they went through the hall, he gazed in an awe-stricken way at the great carved staircase and the walls where armor was hanging and strangely fashioned weapons. He felt as though he were stepping into the Middle Ages. Meanwhile, Oscar, oblivious of the Middle Ages and every other improving subject, was getting acquainted with the page. Oscar had seen pages, for the first time, in New York. He pitied them; they couldn't like it, rigged out in those ridiculous clothes and never able to laugh or play. Always willing to talk, he did his best to amuse them. Now he was busy questioning James: Did his high collar hurt him? Did he have to rub up his buttons to keep them bright? Did--here his aunt saw him and jerked him away. From the hall they passed into a room as odd as delightful. All the woodwork was of oak, age-darkened to a brown-black, and most curiously carved. The mantelpiece had high pillars decorated with ribbons and scrolls and shields and griffin's heads cut out of the wood; and deep shelves on which were arranged queerly shaped and colored china vases, teapots and teacups. Oscar thought them ugly, wondering at the ladies' admiration. Before the doors and windows hung tapestry curtains in which pictures of hunting scenes were woven. The stuff was darned in so many places that Oscar quite pitied Lady Margaret who must have such old curtains; but Mrs. Morris gave a little scream of delight and cried "Oh!" and "How priceless!" and something that sounded like "Goblins!" But though Oscar looked hard at the curtains to find the goblins, he saw none. Then his eyes strayed over the polished floor and the dull-hued rugs, over ebony and ivory cabinets and stiff-backed chairs, to be fixed, finally, by a huge Wardian case.