road
steps before you entered it.

It was the same size as the parlour, and had a bow-window. The furniture
was unusually good; it had belonged to the previous lodger, Mrs.
Meredith, who had bequeathed it to Mrs. Barton at her death.

I was thankful to see a pretty iron bedstead with a brass ring and blue
chintz hangings, instead of the four-poster I had dreaded. There was a
commodious cupboard and a handsome Spanish mahogany chest of drawers that
Mrs. Barton pointed out with great pride. A bright fire burned in the
blue-tiled fireplace; there was an easy-chair and a round table in the
bow-window; a pleasant perfume of lavender-scented sheets pervaded the
room, and a winter nosegay of red and white chrysanthemums was prettily
arranged in a curious china bowl. I praised everything to Mrs. Barton's
satisfaction, and then she went downstairs to see to the tea, first
giving me the information that Nathaniel was coming upstairs with the
big trunk, and would I tell him where to place it?

He entered the next moment, carrying the heavy trunk on his shoulder as
easily as though it were a toy. He was a good-looking man, with a fair
beard and a pair of honest blue eyes, and in spite of his size and
strength--for he was a perfect son of Anak--seemed rather shy and
retiring.

I left him loosening the straps of my box, and went downstairs to find
Uncle Max.

He had made himself quite at home, and was sitting in the big easy-chair
contemplating the fire.

'Well, Ursula, how do you like your rooms? Oh yes, there are two cups and
saucers,' as I looked inquiringly at the table, 'because Mrs. Barton
expects me to remain to tea. She is frying ham and eggs at the present
moment; I hope you do not mind such homely country fare; but to-morrow
you will be your own housekeeper.'

I assured Uncle Max that I had fallen in love with the White Cottage, and
that I liked Mrs. Barton excessively, that my bedroom was especially cosy
and was most comfortably furnished. 'You will see how pretty this room
will look when I put up my new curtains and pictures,' I went on; 'it is
a little bare at present, but it will soon have a more furnished
appearance. I mean to be so busy to-morrow settling all my treasures.'
And I spoke with so much animation that Uncle Max smiled at what he
called my youthful enthusiasm.

'You may be as busy as you like all day,' he returned, in his pleasant
way, 'so that you come up to the vicarage in the afternoon to see M