greatest favour in the world, and that she is giving me the place for nothing," Constance explained, smiling, to Thorndyke.
Then she went on to tell of her battles with Cousin Phillis regarding what was necessary for the house. Cousin Phillis could not conceive that anything should be wanting at Malvern Court, which stood exactly as it was at the beginning of the war, minus forty odd years of wear and tear; and Constance had only got the old lady's consent to fit up the house somewhat, according to modern ideas, by promising to remove every one of the new-fangled fallals and gewgaws when she should give up the place. By hard fighting she had got Cousin Phillis to agree to have some painting and papering done, and hoped when once Cousin Phillis was out of the way, that the house could be made as comfortable as it was picturesque.
It was two hours by train from Washington and six miles from the nearest railway-station.
"Will it not be very lonely for you up there?" asked Thorndyke, smiling at Constance's description of her efforts to benefit Cousin Phillis against her will.
