n abrupt turn which transformed it into picturesqueness. With its low,
broad steps, its slender spindles and odd posts, it added much to the
character of the room.

Like most old New England houses, this one's chief glory was its great
central chimney, with big fireplaces opening both into the living-room and
the dining-room. In the former, between the fireplace and the staircase,
and forming a suggestion of an inglenook, Juliet had contrived a high,
wide seat, cushioned in dull green, and boasting a number of pretty
pillows. It must be confessed that she had surreptitiously added a little
to these in the matter of certain modestly rich bits of material, and she
contemplated the result with great satisfaction. It may be remarked, with
no comment whatever, that in spite of their beauty there was not a pillow
of all those scattered about the house which a weary man might not tuck
under his head without fear of ruining a creation too delicate for any use
but to be admired.

Having seized upon the idea of staining cheap material, she had carried it
out in a set of low bookcases across the end and one side of the room.
These awaited the coming of the several hundreds of choice books which
Anthony had saved from his father's library. Two fine old portraits, dear
to the hearts of many generations of the "Robesons of Kentucky," lent
distinction to the home of their young descendant. Altogether the room was
both quaint and artistic, and with its few plain chairs and tables, mostly
heirlooms, and all of good old colonial design, was a room in which one
could readily imagine one's self sitting down to a winter evening of cosy
comfort, such as is not always to be had in far finer abiding-places.

The dining-room was a study in its reds and browns, and its home-made
furniture was an astonishing success--if one were not too severely
critical. As she surveyed it Juliet seemed to see the future master and
mistress of this little home sitting down opposite each other in the
fireglow, and smiling across.

The coming Mrs. Robeson, if one might judge by her photograph, was a woman
to lend grace and dignity to her surroundings, whatever they might be.
Juliet could imagine her pretty, stately way of presiding at such small
feasts as the room was destined to see, making her guests quite forget
that she was not mistress of a mansion equal to any in the land. Would she
be happy? Could she be happy here, after all that she had had of another