to come and see you; and when I received that money you so kindly sent me, I thought now or never is the time. How I wish I could have come before, to have made you a little more comfortable!"
"How I wish you could, old woman!" said Northcote gently, taking both her hands.
"I think this room is rather sweet myself," said the girl, who also had been examining it very critically. "Somehow every room looks sweet with a nice fire and a lot of books."
"That unnecessarily large grate takes all the heat up the chimney," said Mrs. Northcote, "and moreover is very wasteful of the coal. And what have you got behind the curtain, Henry?"
"That is where I sleep."
"Well, that is sensible, my boy; a saving of money."
"What a large room this must be altogether!" said the girl, with a sudden growth of her curiosity.
"I can see neither of you will rest until you have penetrated into the heart of all my mysteries," said Northcote, laughing loudly, as he interposed himself between the entrance to his chamber and his mother, who, full of inquiry, was plucking at the curtain.
"Why, Henry," cried the girl, with a thrill of consternation in her voice, "you have not had your breakfast!"
"Why should I? This is not Chittingdon, you know. Eleven o'clock is the fashionable hour in town. It wants ten minutes yet."
"Bad habits," said Mrs. Northcote solemnly. "My dearest, eleven o'clock is wrong."
