like some vast camp of gleaming
white tents under an azure sky--the camp of the old Crusaders,--with
here and there a banner waving, and I can almost catch a glimpse of the
walls of Ascalon, or Acre the beleaguered city. People talk about
seeing pictures in the fire! No fire ever lighted can show me such
pictures as I see over Bessmoor, and no castles in Spain or Eldorado
were ever quite so perfect as mine built all of cloud. But here we
are, arrived at last, and here is a comfortable chair for you. I am
going to fetch you a glass of milk before we settle down to our chat.
Oh yes, you must have it," she insisted as Philippa demurred. "Mrs.
Palling has gone out for the day, so we shall be all alone."

"How is Mrs. Palling?" asked Philippa presently. "Has she been
indulging in any more extraordinary readings of the truth?"

"Not just lately. She was particularly cheerful this morning. She has
gone to a funeral, and the very mention of one always rouses her to
enthusiasm. I must tell you that the deceased was no relation and not
even a dear friend, so I saw no reason to damp her pleasurable
excitement. She loves an outing, does Mrs. Palling. Notice the
beehives. They are looking decidedly rakish adorned with black
streamers in honour of the occasion. I have written to London to-day
for a fresh supply of black ribbon, for the last was torn from my
Sunday hat. I had no heart to refuse Mrs. Palling's piteous appeal,
but the demand is becoming so constant that, as she does not seem
inclined to keep a supply herself, I feel I must for the future."

"I am particularly glad she has gone out to-day, for all this week she
has been occupied in the manufacture of a decoction of marigolds, which
she assures me is a sovereign remedy against colds and chills. It
appears that she has been trying to obtain the recipe for years, but
only one person had it, and she guarded it with the most jealous
secrecy. Now, at last, Mrs. Palling has prevailed upon her to disclose
it, to her overwhelming joy and my infinite regret. I can only say
that if the taste is anything like the smell I would most assuredly
prefer the cold. As it is, I shall live in dread of the moment when my
first sneeze will give Mrs. Palling the opportunity she longs for--that
of proving it; and she will appear like an avenging fury armed with a
flaming sword in the shape of a bumper of her noxious brew, stand over
me until I drink it, and force me under pa