et--yawning apart, it is true, but neatly strapped to
prevent accident; and on the mantelpiece a crowd of photographs, and a
few oddments of blue china, all carefully dusted by the owner's hand,
and set out with artistic effect.

Last, and crowning luxury of all, a screen stood behind the low chair,
manufactured out of a clothes-horse flounced with turkey-red, which was
at once the comfort and distraction of Ruth's soul; for while, from her
point of view, it was an indispensable comfort, shutting out draughts
from window and door, and giving to her little nook the last blessing of
privacy, Trix denounced the innovation as the incarnation of
selfishness, Betty's teeth chattered with a noise like castanets, and
Mollie peered round the corner with her shoulders huddled in a shawl,
and her face at once so cheerful, so unreproving, and so bleached with
cold, that it was not in human nature to refuse the desired invitation.

Mollie's domain of "Bellevue" comprised the square-shaped window, on the
sill of which she cultivated nasturtiums and mignonette in summer, and
in the embrasure stood a window-seat covered with blue cloth, that was
really the remains of an old winter skirt.

Visitors to "Bellevue" always paused to admire the sprays of flowers
which were embroidered here and there on this blue background; and then
Mollie "dissembled," as she called it, smiling sweet recognition of the
praise, but never once breathing the secret that the whole being and
intent of these flowers was to hide the joins beneath.

She also possessed a table and a work-basket; but the former was
decidedly ancient and insecure as to legs, while the basket made no
pretence of shutting, but looked on unabashed while its contents lay
scattered over the rug.

A dressmaker's stand stood in the corner, on which a blouse, more or
less complete, was invariably pinned, waiting for the moment when Mollie
had time to devote to her favourite occupation. There were no book-
shelves, but a litter of magazines behind a cushion on the window-seat,
and innumerable photographs were secured to the wall by black-headed
pins, to fade slowly but surely into unrecognition in the unbroken glare
of light.

Mollie herself pined for curtains to mitigate the draught during the
winter months, but the three other inmates of Attica loudly declared
that they could not spare a fraction of light, so she gave way smiling,
as her custom was. Mollie never grumbled; it was so d