was weighed out, and the tea dispensed by the ounce, as if it was chemicals, and that please the Lord and anybody else that likes, they’d have better feedin’ if they came along with me, they struck a bargain there and then.  And then as if there was a special powerful blessin’ on it all, who should come down Riversford High Street but one of the best cooks as ever took a job, a Scotch body worth her weight in gold, and she’d be a pretty big parcel to weigh, too, but she can send up a dinner for one as easy as for thirty, which is as good a test as boilin’ a tater—–­and ’as got all her wits about her.  She was just goin’ to advertise for a house party or shootin’ job, so we went into the Crown Inn at Riversford and had tea together and settled it.  And they all come up in a wagginette together as merry as larks;—­so the place is quite lively, Passon, I do assure you, ’specially for a woman like me which have had it all to myself and lonesome like for many years.  I’ve made Kitty useful, too, dustin’ and polishin’—­gels can’t begin their trainin’ too early, and all has been going on fine;—­not but what there’s a mighty sight of eatin’ and drinkin’ now, but it’s the Lord’s will that human bein’s should feed even as the pigs do, ’specially domestic servants, and there’s no helpin’ of it nor hinderin’—­but this mornin’s business did put me out a bit, and I do assure you I haven’t got over it yet, but howsomever, Spruce says ‘Do yer dooty!’—­and I’m a-doin’ it to the best of my belief and, ’ope—­still it do make my mind a bit ricketty—­”

Silently Walden followed her through the rooms, saying little in response to her remarks, ‘ricketty’ or otherwise, and noting all the various changes as he went.

In the dining-room there was a great transformation.  The fine old Cordova leather chairs were all released from their brown holland coverings,—­the long-concealed Flemish tapestries were again unrolled and disclosed to the light of day—­valuable canvases that had been turned to the wall to save their colour from the too absorbing sunshine, were now restored to their proper positions, and portraits by Vandyke, and landscapes by Corot gave quite a stately air of occupation to a room, which being large and lofty, had always seemed to Walden the loneliest in the house for lack of a living presence.  He trod in the restless wake of Mrs. Spruce, however, without comment other than a word of praise such as she expected, for the general result of her labours in getting the long-disused residence into habitable condition, and was only moved to something like enthusiasm when he reached what was called ‘the morning room,’ an apartment originally intended to serve as a boudoir for that beautiful Mrs. Vancourt, the bride who never came home.  Here all the furniture was of the daintiest design,—­here rich cushions of silk and satin were lavishly piled on the luxurious sofas and in the deep easy-chairs,—­curtains of cream brocade embroidered by hand with garlands