THE interior, however, was the strong side of Tregarrow. We will enter whilst the yeoman and his guest are shaking off the snow from their shoes in the entrance hall. On the left of this was a room with a blazing fire in its large grate, which showed cheerfully through the half-open door; but it had, nevertheless, a stiff, stately, unsocial look. This was evidently the apartment which had been offered up as a temple to the grand piano. A little farther, on the same side, was a smaller and cozier room—a perfect little snuggery. This was the dame's "bowdwoir," as her spouse called it; a dear little sanctuary suggestive of home meetings, home talk, and home affections. Opposite the door was an oak staircase, very broad and very massive, but very dark also and very slippery the scene of many a fall, and the cause of many a bruise-for the yeoman considered carpets aristocratic, and would have the stairs left in the nakedness of their native oak. In a dusty corner at the foot of the staircase stood an old clock. In the obscurity of this position, the face of this horologe was quite an VOL XCI.-NO. DLV.

enigma. The large gilt figures, on a dark ground, would have made the note of time difficult under the most favourable circumstances- -now it was a perfect mystery; but when it struck, then it showed what a clock with good, strong, healthy works could do. Its accuracy, too, was a proverb. The church and town clocks deferred to it, and all minor timepieces and watches were set by it most humbly.

On the right, a large door in the wainscot partition opened into the chief room. In fact this was the interior; here the interior life was passed; here, too, was the place of the hearthstone, and that made it sacred in Guy Penrice's eyes. The first perception of the interior was pleasant certainly. A genial warmth took possession at once of mind and body. The cold was completely conquered here; not only conquered, but annihilated. The thought of it even was subdued. Standing there, one looked out on the heaps of snow through the windows as though it were a picture of a winter in Russia. The warmth reigned supreme; it had things all its own way; it swept even into odd cran

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