hree windows
were as if they lined a distant shore. The wallpaper of red flock had
been an expensive one, but it was ugly, and faded in places where the
sun caught it. It had been good enough for the Squire's grandfather
forty years before, and it was good enough for him. It was hung with
portraits of men and women and portraits of horses, some of the latter
by animal painters of note. The furniture was all of massive mahogany,
furniture that would last for ever, but had been made after the date at
which furniture left off being beautiful as well as lasting. The
mantelpiece was of brown marble, very heavy and very ugly.

At one minute to nine Mrs. Clinton came in. She carried a little
old-fashioned basket of keys which she put down on the dinner-wagon,
exactly in the centre of the top shelf. Cicely came forward to kiss her,
followed by Miss Bird, with comma-less inquiries as to how she had spent
the night after her journey, and the twins came in through the long
window to wish her good morning. She replied composedly to the old
starling's twittering, and cast her eye over the attire of the twins,
which was sometimes known to require adjustment. Then she took her seat
in one of the big easy-chairs which stood on either side of the
fireplace, while Porter, the butler, placed a Bible and a volume of
devotions, both bound in brown leather, before the Squire's seat at the
foot of the table, and retired to sound the gong.

It was exactly at this moment that the Squire, who opened his letters in
the library before breakfast, was accustomed to enter the room, and,
with a word of greeting to his assembled family, perch his gold-rimmed
glasses on his fine straight nose, and with the help of two book-markers
find the places in the Bible and book of prayers to which the year in
its diurnal course had brought him. The gong would sound, either
immediately before or immediately after he had entered the room, the
maids and the men who had been assembling in the hall would file in, he
would throw a glance towards them over his glasses to see that they were
all settled, and then begin to read in a fast, country gentleman's voice
the portion of Scripture that was to hallow the day now officially
beginning.

The gong rolled forth its sounding reverberation, Miss Bird and the
three girls took their seats, and then there was a pause. In a house of
less rigid habits of punctuality it would have been filled by small
talk, but here it was so