“You do not seem to care for Lady Ledbitter,” I said to him.

“In truth I do not; she is a county magnate, and a local horror I call her.  She leads all the ladies of the country; they are frightened to death of her; they frown when she frowns, smile when she smiles.  I begged of Frances not to fall under her sway, but I have begged in vain, no doubt.  If she has been there for half and hour Frances will have given in.”

He turned on me suddenly, so suddenly, indeed, that he almost startled me.

“Do you know,” he said, “those kind of women, fair and calm, whose thoughts seem to be always turned inward?  My wife is one of those; when one talks to her she listens with her eyes down, and seems as though she had left another world of thought just for your sake.  Her manner always piques one to go on talking for the sake of making her smile.  I can just imagine how she looks now, while Lady Ledbitter talks to her.  Well, come to your own room, John, and we will stroll round the grounds until her ladyship has retreated.”

What a beautiful old house it was!  One could tell so easily that a lady of taste and refinement presided over it.  The fine old oak was not covered, but contrasting with it were thick, crimson rugs, hangings of crimson velvet, and it was relieved by any amount of flowers; beautiful pictures were hung with exquisite taste; white statues stood out in grand relief against the dark walls.

“Your wife is a woman of taste, that is quite evident, Lance,” I said.

My own room—­a spacious chamber called the Blue Chamber—­a large, old-fashioned room with three windows, each window seat as large as a small room; the hangings were of blue and white; there were a few jardinieres with costly, odorous flowers; easy chairs, a comfortable couch.  Little stands had been placed with easy chairs in the window seats; the room looked as though bluebells had been strewn with a liberal hand on white ground.

“How beautiful!” I cried; “I shall never want to leave this room again, Lance.”

“I wish you would stay and never leave us; I am happy enough in having Frances; if I had you as well, my happiness would be complete.  You have all you want, John; I will send your portmanteau.”

When Lance had gone I looked round my room and fell in love with it.  It had the charm of old fashion, of elegance, of space, of height, and from the windows there was a magnificent view of the park and the gardens.

“Lance must indeed be a happy man.”  I thought to myself.

He came to me when I was dressed and we went out for a stroll through the gardens.

“We shall hear the dinner-bell,” said Lance.  “We will not go too far.”

We saw the stately equipage of Lady Ledbitter driven down the avenue.

“Thank Heaven!” said Lance.  “Now Frances is free.  She will have gone to her room.  That good Lady Ledbitter has robbed us of a pleasant hour.”