has been something of a shock too.
Heigho! I am not going to _look_ like defeat, anyhow. Of course, too,
I'll be just the same to Hilda outwardly. Ah, there's Susan--I'd better
speak to her and get her to tell cook. This is Thursday--they'll be here
in two days."

"Susan," as the neat parlor-maid entered the room, "I have had a letter
from your mistress. She is coming home on Saturday, and will bring
little Miss Merton with her. Have the things come from Shoolbred's yet?"

"The furniture, sir, for the spare room? Yes, it arrived yesterday, and
the man is coming to lay down the carpet and put up the curtains this
morning."

"Well, Susan, you get the room ready, and have the bed well aired, and
tell me if there's anything more wanted--the child has been ill, and
she'll require every comfort. Mrs. Quentyns will wish the room to look
as nice as possible. I know nothing about these matters--see to it,
Susan, will you?"

"Yes, sir; you may depend on me and cook to do everything right----"

"And tell cook about your mistress. Let me see, they'll be home between
five and six on Saturday evening. I shan't dine at home to-night, and if
a telegram comes for me, I want you to wire to my city address. This is
it."

Quentyns left the house, and Susan and the cook spent a busy day in
dusting, polishing, sweeping, and cleaning.

The little spare room looked very sweet and bright with the simple tasty
furniture which Quentyns had chosen. The small bed was inviting in its
white draperies. The furniture, painted in artistic greens, had a cool
and young effect. The room looked like a child's room, and Susan and
cook were in ecstasies over its appearance.

"Master _'ave_ taste and no mistake," said cook. "But why don't he come
and look for 'isself at all we have done, Susan? So natty as everything
looks, and the furniture master's taste and all. Won't missis be
pleased! But why don't he come and say what he thinks of how we has put
the things, Susan?"

"Never you mind," said Susan. "Master knows as the arranging of
furniture is woman's province--there's no fussing in him, and that's
what I likes him for."

Saturday arrived in due time, and the little house in Philippa Terrace
was in apple-pie order.

As Quentyns was leaving for town that morning, Susan waylaid him.

"What hour shall I tell my missis that we may expect you home, sir?" she
asked. "Mrs. Quentyns and the little lady will be here by six, and the
very first thing