tured ladies of Melbury Park as
"artistic but slightly _bizarre_," but the air of richness imparted by
the numberless hymeneal offerings of Walter's and Muriel's friends and
relations had given them a pleasant subject for conversation. Their
opinion was that it was a mistake to have such valuable things lying
about, but if "the doctor" collected them and took them up to put under
his bed every night it would not so much matter.

"They all tell me that Dr. Pringle used this room as a dining-room,"
said Muriel. "It is the first thing they say, and it breaks the ice. We
get on wonderfully well after that; but it is a pretty room, isn't it,
Dick?"

She had her arm in Cicely's, and pressed it sometimes as she talked, but
she did not talk to her.

"It's an uncommonly pretty room," said Dick. "Might be in Grosvenor
Square. Where did you and Walter get your ideas of furnishing from,
Muriel? We don't run to this sort of thing at Kencote and Mountfield.
Content with what our forefathers have taught us, eh?"

"Oh, we know what's what, all right," said Muriel. "We have seen a few
pretty rooms, between us. Now I'm going to take Cicely upstairs. You can
wander about if you like, Dick, and there are cigarettes and things in
Walter's room."

"I'll explore the gay parterre," said Dick. Then he turned to Cicely and
took hold of her chin between his thumb and finger. "Look here, don't
you worry any more, old lady," he said kindly. "You've been a little
fool, and you've had a knock. Tell Muriel about it and I'll tell Walter.
Nobody else need know."

She clung to him, crying. "O Dick," she said, "if you had only spoken to
me like that at first!"

"Well, if I had," said Dick, "I should have been in a devil of a temper
now. As it is I've worked it off. There, run along. You've nothing to
cry for now." He kissed her, which was an unusual attention on his part,
and went through the door into the garden. Muriel and Cicely went
upstairs together.

Dick soon exhausted the possibilities of the garden and went into the
house again and into Walter's room. It had red walls and a Turkey
carpet. There was a big American desk, a sofa and easy-chairs and three
Chippendale chairs, all confined in rather a small space. There was a
low bookcase along one wall, and above it framed school and college
photographs; on the other walls were prints from pictures at Kencote.
They were the only things in the room, except the ornaments on the
mantelpiece, a