tion "This space to be
sold," and I remembered, as I rang the bell, that this notice had been
up for years. On avowing that I wanted a space, I was admitted by an
elderly, somewhat dejected looking female, whose fine figure was not
on scale with her surroundings. Perhaps my face said so, for her first
remark was explanatory.

"They get me cheap," she said, "because I drink."

I bowed, and we passed on to the drawing-room. I forget whether I have
described Mary's personal appearance, but if so you have a picture of
that sunny drawing-room. My first reflection was, How can she have found
the money to pay for it all! which is always your first reflection when
you see Mary herself a-tripping down the street.

I have no space (in that little room) to catalogue all the whim-whams
with which she had made it beautiful, from the hand-sewn bell-rope which
pulled no bell to the hand-painted cigar-box that contained no cigars.
The floor was of a delicious green with exquisite oriental rugs; green
and white, I think, was the lady's scheme of colour, something cool, you
observe, to keep the sun under. The window-curtains were of some rare
material and the colour of the purple clematis; they swept the floor
grandly and suggested a picture of Mary receiving visitors. The piano
we may ignore, for I knew it to be hired, but there were many dainty
pieces, mostly in green wood, a sofa, a corner cupboard, and a most
captivating desk, which was so like its owner that it could have sat
down at her and dashed off a note. The writing paper on this desk had
the word Mary printed on it, implying that if there were other Marys
they didn't count. There were many oil-paintings on the walls, mostly
without frames, and I must mention the chandelier, which was obviously
of fabulous worth, for she had encased it in a holland bag.

"I perceive, ma'am," said I to the stout maid, "that your master is in
affluent circumstances."

She shook her head emphatically, and said something that I failed to
catch.

"You wish to indicate," I hazarded, "that he married a fortune."

This time I caught the words. They were "Tinned meats," and having
uttered them she lapsed into gloomy silence.

"Nevertheless," I said, "this room must have cost a pretty penny."

"She done it all herself," replied my new friend, with concentrated
scorn.

"But this green floor, so beautifully stained--"

"Boiling oil," said she, with a flush of honest shame, "and a
shillingswo