“Certainly not,” said Miss Drewitt, with emphasis.

“Just what I said,” remarked Mr. Tredgold.

“Captain Bowers wanted to have them pulled down, but I dissuaded him.  I advised him to consult you first.”

“I don’t suppose he really intended to,” said the girl.

“He did,” said the other, grimly; “said they were untidy.  How do you like the way the house is furnished?”

The girl gazed at him for a few moments before replying.  “I like it very much,” she said, coldly.

“That’s right,” said Mr. Tredgold, with an air of relief.  “You see, I advised the captain what to buy.  I went with him to Tollminster and helped him choose.  Your room gave me the most anxiety, I think.”

“My room?” said the girl, starting.

“It’s a dream in the best shades of pink and green,” said Mr. Tredgold, modestly.  “Pink on the walls, and carpets and hangings green; three or four bits of old furniture—­the captain objected, but I stood firm; and for pictures I had two or three little things out of an art journal framed.”

“Is furnishing part of your business?” inquired the girl, eyeing him in bewilderment.

“Business?” said the other.  “Oh, no.  I did it for amusement.  I chose and the captain paid.  It was a delightful experience.  The sordid question of price was waived; for once expense was nothing to me.  I wish you’d just step up to your room and see how you like it.  It’s the one over the kitchen.”

Miss Drewitt hesitated, and then curiosity, combined with a cheerful idea of probably being able to disapprove of the lauded decorations, took her indoors and upstairs.  In a few minutes she came down again.

“I suppose it’s all right,” she said, ungraciously, “but I don’t understand why you should have selected it.”

“I had to,” said Mr. Tredgold, confidentially.  “I happened to go to Tollminster the same day as the captain and went into a shop with him.  If you could only see the things he wanted to buy, you would understand.”

The girl was silent.

“The paper the captain selected for your room,” continued Mr. Tredgold, severely, “was decorated with branches of an unknown flowering shrub, on the top twig of which a humming-bird sat eating a dragonfly.  A rough calculation showed me that every time you opened your eyes in the morning you would see fifty-seven humming-birds-all made in the same pattern-eating fifty-seven ditto dragon-flies.  The captain said it was cheerful.”

“I have no doubt that my uncle’s selection would have satisfied me,” said Miss Drewitt, coldly.

“The curtains he fancied were red, with small yellow tigers crouching all over them,” pursued Mr. Tredgold.  “The captain seemed fond of animals.”

“I think that you were rather—­venturesome,” said the girl.  “Suppose that I had not liked the things you selected?”

Mr. Tredgold deliberated.  “I felt sure that you would like them,” he said, at last.  “It was a hard struggle not to keep some of the things for myself.  I’ve had my eye on those two Chippendale chairs for years.  They belonged to an old woman in Mint Street, but she always refused to part with them.  I shouldn’t have got them, only one of them let her down the other day.”