I came out to try and find some snow-drops
for her room. There is really nothing in the greenhouses--and I can't
make the house look nice."
Certainly as they entered and passed through the panelled hall to the
drawing-room Hugh Roughsedge saw no need for apology. Amid the warm
dimness of the house he was aware of a few starry flowers, a few
gleaming and beautiful stuffs, the white and black of an engraving, or
the blurred golds and reds of an old Italian picture, humble school-work
perhaps, collected at small cost by Diana's father, yet still breathing
the magic of the Enchanted Land. The house was refined, pleading,
eager--like its mistress. It made no display--but it admitted no
vulgarity. "These things are not here for mere decoration's sake," it
seemed to say. "Dear kind hands have touched them; dear silent voices
have spoken of them. Love them a little, you also!--and be at home."
Not that Hugh Roughsedge made any such conscious analysis of his
impressions. Yet the house appealed to him strangely. He thought Miss
Mallory's taste marvellous; and it is one of the superiorities in women
to which men submit most readily.
The drawing-room had especially a festive air.
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