Chapter 5

[_Fanning herself._] I suppose he can't find the artists; _that's_ it. If you don't have the artists--! [_Shutting up her fan._] You recollect my "Polly Taggart" in _The Merry Milliner_?

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Stifling a yawn._] Gharming; gharming.

[_FARNCOMBE is bending over LILY while she is eating her ice and they are talking lightly but intently. GABRIELLE, finding that she is "out of it," rises with a pout and, carrying her plate, joins the ladies and men who are at the fireplace. BLAND enters with JIMMIE at the door on the left._

MRS. STIDULPH.

[_To VON RETTENMAYER._] I hate blowing my own trumpet, but I was looking through my press-cuttings only yesterday. _I've_ never seen such notices as I had for "Polly Taggart."

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Closing his eyes._] Vavourable?

MRS. STIDULPH.

Favourable! They make me blush to read them. Stupid of me; but they make me blush, positively.

[_JIMMIE comes to LILY, BLAND following her. On her way she sees the handkerchief and powder-puff lying upon the floor._

JIMMIE.

Why, _there_ it is! [_Picking up the handkerchief and puff, and rubbing the puff, which is an extremely ragged one, over her nose-- singing sentimentally._] "There are no friends like the old friends, The constant, tried, and true;--" [_Sitting beside LILY._] Room for a little 'un?

[_LILY, without interrupting her talk with FARNCOMBE, lays her hand on JIMMIE'S for a moment._

BLAND.

[_To JIMMIE._] Bring you anything?

JIMMIE.

[_Wrapping the puff in the handkerchief tenderly and slipping it into her bosom._] A liqueur of petrol and a lucifer-match.

BLAND.

[_Leaving her._] Oh, go on!

MRS. STIDULPH.

[_To VON RETTENMAYER._] And then to give it all up, as I was idiot enough to do when I married, and for a life as dull as ditch-water! If ever a woman sacrificed herself in this world----!

[_FULKERSON and DAPHNE enter at the door on the left and hurry to the counter._

FULKERSON.

[_Boisterously._] Time! Time! [_To those standing at the counter._] 'Low me. 'Low me. [_To LUIGI._] Glass o' lemonade and a whiskey-and-soda. Quick with the whiskey-and-soda.

MRS. STIDULPH.

[_To VON RETTENMAYER._] But I don't intend to stick to _that_ arrangement. If I can't get back into the theatres, there are the halls! I was telling the Colonel this morning----

ROPER.

[_Appearing before MRS. STIDULPH, his programme in his hand._] Ours, Dolly.

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Rising with alacrity._] Aha! [_Bowing to MRS. STIDULPH._] I yield with relugtance.

[_ROPER sits beside MRS. STIDULPH and VON RETTENMAYER hastens to ENID._

ROPER.

[_To MRS. STIDULPH._] Another waltz.

DAPHNE.

[_To HENEAGE, who is claiming her._] Wait till I've finished my drink, Stewie.

BLAND.

[_To NITA._] Nita.

NITA.

No; this is with Douglas.

BLAND.

Nothing o' the sort.

NITA.

[_Referring to her programme._] You're correct; my mistake.

DE CASTRO.

[_Coming to GABRIELLE who is talking to SYBIL._] Gabth.

GABRIELLE.

[_Dolefully._] Oh, you again!

DE CASTRO.

[_Mortified._] Afraid tho.

[_The sound of distant music is again heard, and there is a great deal of bustle as the men claim their partners. TAVISH goes to EVANGELINE, GRIMWOOD to, FLO, PALK and GLYNN to OLGA and SYBIL, and gradually the assemblage melts away._

FULKERSON.

[_Coming to JIMMIE, who is conning her programme, and standing before her-- reading from his programme._] "_Vawlse. Cry dee cure._"

JIMMIE.

[_With withering accuracy._] "_Valse. Cri de coeur._"

FULKERSON.

[_Wagging his head._] Very likely. Come along, Jimmie.

JIMMIE.

[_Rising and shaking herself out._] Jane to you, _if_ you please.

FULKERSON.

Tosh!

JIMMIE.

I was christened Jane, _Herbert_.

FULKERSON.

Well, I wasn't at the christening, see.

JIMMIE.

No; but if you are not more careful of those feet of yours while you're waltzing, you _will_ be at my funeral.

[_She takes his arm and they go out at the door on the left. SMYTHE, STIDULPH, COOLING, and SHIRLEY follow, talking together. All the couples have now disappeared except VON RETTENMAYER and ENID and FARNCOMBE and LILY. VON RETTENMAYER and ENID are at the counter, where LUIGI is giving VON RETTENMAYER a glass of champagne, and the waiters are busying themselves in collecting the soiled glasses, plates, etc., which have been left upon the mantel-piece and chairs. The bearded waiter comes to LILY and she hands him her plate._

FARNCOMBE.

[_To LILY._] Shall we go down?

[_She rises, leaving her bouquet upon the settee, and is about to put her arm through FARNCOMBE'S when she checks herself and looks at her programme._

LILY.

[_Frowning._] Tsss!

FARNCOMBE.

Eh?

LILY.

[_In a low voice._] One, two, three, four--! Why, this-- this is our fifth dance!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Softly._] Yes.

LILY.

Five out of eight!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Looking at his programme._] And 10, 12, and 14 are mine, too.

LILY.

[_With a movement of her shoulders, accepting his arm._] How unfair!

FARNCOMBE.

[_As they go to the right-hand door at the back._] Unfair?

LILY.

To the others. I can't think what made me so thoughtless.

[_They disappear. Two of the waiters carry out the soiled glasses, etc.; another follows with the ices, and the bearded waiter with the strawberries-and-cream. After a while, LUIGI also withdraws._

ENID.

[_Leaving the counter with VON RETTENMAYER._] Well, what did you say to him?

VON RETTENMAYER.

I told him the biece wants lifding in the zecond aggd and that he ought to gif you anoder dance.

ENID.

[_On the right._] What did _he_ say?

VON RETTENMAYER.

He will think it over!

ENID.

[_Scornfully._] Ha! That's Smythe's invariable formula, cunning old fox!

VON RETTENMAYER.

But we are to dalk aboud it lader. I am waiding to ged him alone.

ENID.

Pff! _You_ won't get him alone, you stupid; _he'll_ take precious good care of that. [_Finding that LUIGI and the waiters have departed, and walking across to the left._] Ah, but it isn't dancing my mind's dwelling on just now, dear boy.

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Following her._] Nod?

ENID.

It's rest I'm yearning for-- my holiday!-- rest for my weary bones. [_Turning to him without a sign of disturbance._] Karl, I'm simply bursting with rage.

VON RETTENMAYER.

Rage?

ENID.

That wretched hotel at Ostend-- the Plage! They've the confounded impudence to ask me a hundred-and-twenty-five francs a day for two cubby-holes on the third floor, for my aunt and me.

VON RETTENMAYER.

Monsdrous. [_With a shrug._] But Ostend is-- Ostend.

ENID.

Thanks for the information. Is that all the sympathy you can offer?

VON RETTENMAYER.

Bardon. [_Humbly._] There may be gheaper hodels.

ENID.

Where the common people pay for their beds and meals with Cook's coupons! [_Sitting upon the arm of the further settee in the centre and swinging her feet._] Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose it'll have to be Swanage, or some brisk resort of that description. [_Sighing._] So be it! [_Humming._] Tra, lal, lal, la----!

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Sitting on the nearer settee in the centre, close to her, with an anxious expression._] A hundred-and-twendy-five frangks a day?

ENID.

Including nothing-- absolutely nothing!

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Biting his nails._] Prezisely! There's the eading and dringking.

ENID.

One can't starve, that's certain.

VON RETTENMAYER.

Which would amound to----?

ENID.

[_Watching him out of the corner of her eye._] I believe aunt and I could manage to feed ourselves on forty francs a day-- or fifty-- at a pinch.

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_His face growing longer and longer._] A hundred-and-twendy-five-- and fifdy----

ENID.

A hundred-and-seventy-five. [_Stroking his hair with a finger._] Call it two hundred.

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Leaning back appalled._] Fifdy-sigs bounds a weeg!

ENID.

Sixty, in round figures.

VON RETTENMAYER.

For a fordnight?

ENID.

Oh, no, dear; a fortnight's no use.

VON RETTENMAYER.

But one begomes sig of a blace afder a fordnight.

ENID.

If you only go for enjoyment; not if you go for rest-- rest.

VON RETTENMAYER.

Three weegs, then?

ENID.

A month. Smythe gives me the whole of August.

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Passing his hand across his forehead._] A month!

ENID.

[_Rising and carefully picking a piece of fluff from her skirt._] We're losing this dance. Shall we have a turn?

[_He gets to his feet with some difficulty and then faces her._

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Breathing heavily._] Enid----

ENID.

[_Guilelessly._] Yes?

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Putting his heels together and bowing to her._] If you would permid me to be your bangker during your sday at Ostend-- four weegs----

ENID.

Karl----

VON RETTENMAYER.

I should be mosd gradified.

ENID.

[_Going to him._] I couldn't. Such an obligation!

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Bowing again._] On my side.

ENID.

[_Giving him her hands._] Of course, I'd defray my travelling expenses, and tips and incidentals----

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Raising her hands to his lips._] Ah!----

ENID.

Not a penny of those should fall on you. [_Withdrawing her hands quickly and backing away from him._] H'sh!

[_STIDULPH enters at the door on the left and again wanders to the counter._

STIDULPH.

[_Taking another cigarette._] You're missing a very pretty waltz, Miss Moncreiff.

ENID.

[_Going to the door on the left, VON RETTENMAYER following her._] I was just saying so to the Baron.

[_ENID and VON RETTENMAYER disappear. STIDULPH lights his cigarette and is leaving the counter when GABRIELLE and DE CASTRO enter at the right-hand door at the back, DE CASTRO looking exceedingly sulky._

STIDULPH.

[_To GABRIELLE and DE CASTRO._] Ah, Miss Kato; ah, Sam! A pleasant party, eh?

DE CASTRO.

[_Shortly._] Yeth. [_STIDULPH goes out at the right-hand door at the back. DE CASTRO crosses to the left and then turns to GABRIELLE._] Dam pleathant party!

GABRIELLE.

[_Dolefully._] Well, don't make a scene.

DE CASTRO.

Thene! _I'm_ not makin' a thene. Walkin' away from me in the middle of a danthe and leavin' me thtandin' thtarin' after you like a detherted child! _You're_ makin' the thene!

GABRIELLE.

I'm very sorry.

DE CASTRO.

I'm jutht ath good a waltzther ath anyone here, and better than motht. [_Waving his arms._] If you're tired of me, announthe the fact quietly. Don't go and wipe your bootth on me in public, becauthe that hurtth my pride.

GABRIELLE.

[_With a little twist of her body._] I can't do more than apologise. First time I've ever done _that_ to a man.

DE CASTRO.

[_Coming to her, mollified._] I don't athk it, Gabth; I don't athk it. All I athk----

GABRIELLE.

[_Sitting on the nearer settee in the centre._] If I'm rude, it's owing to my low spirits. I'm so shockingly low-spirited.

DE CASTRO.

I know you are, and I make allowanthes for yer. I repeat, all I athk----

GABRIELLE.

[_Gazing at vacancy._] Mine's a strange nature. _On_ the stage, I'm liveliness itself----!

DE CASTRO.

A perfect little lump o' talent! I've been tellin' Carlton tho-- perthuadin' him to introduthe an extra thong for you in Act Two.

GABRIELLE.

[_Looking at DE CASTRO._] You have?

DE CASTRO.

Yeth.

GABRIELLE.

Did he promise to think it over?

DE CASTRO.

Hith exthact wordth!

GABRIELLE.

[_With a hollow laugh._] Ha, ha, ha! [_Resuming her former attitude._] As I was remarking, I'm a mass of inconsistency. _On_ the stage the embodiment of elfish fun----

DE CASTRO.

That wath in the _Mail_.

GABRIELLE.

[_Nodding._] In the _Mail_. _Off_ the stage, I'm a sufferer from what's called the artistic temperature-- no-- temperament----

DE CASTRO.

[_Uncomfortably, patting her shoulder._] Po' little girl; po' little girl!

GABRIELLE.

[_Her melancholy increasing._] Sometimes I've an idea that if I had a motor-car of my _own_ I should feel easier and happier.

DE CASTRO.

[_With a change of tone._] What d'ye mean-- motor-car of yer own? Mine'th alwayth at your dithpothal, ithn't it?

GABRIELLE.

[_Shaking her head._] That's not the same thing. Whenever I have yours out, I'm weighed down by a sense of borrowing.

DE CASTRO.

Well, if I gave you a new car, you'd be weighed down by a thenthe of my havin' paid for it.

GABRIELLE.

At first I should, but not for long. Seeing my family crest on the door-panels, instead of your monogram, 'ud help me to forget you'd had anything to do with it. [_Gloomily._] Of course, it 'ud only be an experiment. It might cheer me up, or it mightn't.

[_The music ceases. A waiter carrying a tray enters at the door on the left, goes behind the counter, and mixes some drinks._

DE CASTRO.

[_After a pause, loosening his collar-- in a low voice._] Here! We'd better dithcuth thith experiment. [_Glancing over his shoulder at the waiter._] Let'th come and thit in the pit.

GABRIELLE.

[_Rising._] I can't argue; my head's too bad for that.

DE CASTRO.

[_Leading her to the double-door._] I don't want to argue; I thimply want to arrive at an underthtandin'. Thuppothin' I buy you a car, am I to be made an arth of at the nexth danthe we happen to meet at-- yeth or no?----

[_They go out on to the landing and disappear as FULKERSON hurries in at the right-hand door at the back. His eyes are rather glassy and his utterance is a little thick._

FULKERSON.

[_To the waiter, joining him behind the counter._] Hi! Wake up, there! Gla'sodawa'erf'misspirch'nth'stage. [_Distinctly._] Misspirch-- on th'stage-- gla'-- sodawa'er. I'll have a whiskey. Wh'sthwhiskey? Which-- is-- the-- whiskey? Than'g. [_Pouring some whiskey into a tumbler._] You take sodaw'er t' Misspirch; I'll mix m'own whiskey. Loo' sharp, sodaw'er Misspirch. [_The waiter goes out with the drinks and FULKERSON, glass in hand, comes to the nearer side of the counter. He swallows his drink greedily, singing to himself between the gulps._] "Oh, the gals! Oh, the gals! I am awfully fond of the gals! [_Putting his empty glass upon the counter and making for the door on the left._] Be they ebon or blond, Of the gals I am fond; I am _dreadfully_ fond of the gals!"

[_He vanishes as FARNCOMBE and LILY enter at the right-hand door at the back. There is an air of constraint and uneasiness about the girl. She comes to the nearer settee in the centre and again picks up her bouquet. FARNCOMBE follows her. They talk in subdued voices and with frequent pauses._

FARNCOMBE.

Another ice?

LILY.

[_Rearranging a rose, almost inaudibly._] No, thanks.

FARNCOMBE.

[_After a pause._] I-- I wish I had given you a bouquet instead of a big, ugly basket.

LILY.

Why?

FARNCOMBE.

You-- you might have brought it to the theatre, as you have that one, and carried it about with you.

LILY.

[_Coldly._] I didn't bring this to the theatre.

FARNCOMBE.

No?

LILY.

I found it with a lot of other flowers at the stage-door. It's from the gallery boys-- [_looking at him for a moment steadily_]-- and I attach some value to it.

[_The bearded waiter enters at the right-hand door at the back, takes a box of cigars from the counter, and goes out at the door on the left. LILY walks away from FARNCOMBE and seats herself upon the further settee in the centre._

FARNCOMBE.

[_After the waiter has withdrawn, producing his programme._] Number Nine. "_Two Step. Mind the Paint._" [_To LILY._] Of course, you-- you are engaged for this?

LILY.

And you, surely?

FARNCOMBE.

No, I-- I kept it open, in case-- in case----

LILY.

[_Decidedly._] I dance it with Morrie.

FARNCOMBE.

Mr. Cooling?

LILY.

Morrie Cooling.

FARNCOMBE.

[_After another pause, sitting, behind her, upon the nearer settee._] Miss Parradell.

LILY.

Well?

FARNCOMBE.

I wonder whether Mr. Cooling would let you off.

LILY.

I shouldn't dream of asking him.

FARNCOMBE.

No, but-- may _I_?

LILY.

[_Haughtily._] I beg you'll do nothing of the sort.

FARNCOMBE.

Forgive me.

[_There is a further pause and then she turns to him._

LILY.

Why I spoke so-- so sharply to you-- was----

FARNCOMBE.

You didn't speak sharply to me.

LILY.

Was because I've been very nasty with Morrie-- wrote him a furious letter-- and I want to make it up to him.

FARNCOMBE.

Ah, yes.

LILY.

I called him a pig, and other things; I hate myself for it.

FARNCOMBE.

A pig?

LILY.

[_Smiling._] Still, that's no reason why I should be nasty with _you_.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Laughingly._] And call _me_ a pig.

LILY.

[_Impulsively, kneeling upon the settee so that she may compare her programme with his._] Look here! Fifteen-- the last but one. Are you fixed up for Fifteen?

FARNCOMBE.

No.

LILY.

No!

FARNCOMBE.

I kept it open-- in case----

LILY.

[_Merrily._] Ha, ha--! [_Checking herself, severely._] I _might_ be able to give you Fifteen. [_FARNCOMBE scribbles on his programme eagerly._] Don't count on it, please; but it's booked to Mr. Fulkerson, and Bertie's not always to be depended upon at that hour.

FARNCOMBE.

Thank you-- thank you-- thank you. [_She resumes her seat and he jumps up and goes to her._] That reminds me. May I ask who is going to see you home, Miss Parradell?

LILY.

See me home?

FARNCOMBE.

It would be an honour that I should-- appreciate-- more than I can-- find words to express.

LILY.

[_Rising, sternly._] I am very much obliged to you. [_Walking away from him again._] I dare say Mr. Roper will see me home-- and Mr. de Castro-- and Mr. Bland----

FARNCOMBE.

[_Following her, unhappily._] I-- I hope-- I-- I hope I haven't offended you.

LILY.

Not in the least; [_in a frigid tone_] only I am in the habit of relying on old friends for those little services.

[_STIDULPH enters from the landing and again wanders to the counter and to the cigarettes. The "Mind the Paint" air, to the time of a Two Step, is played in the distance._

FARNCOMBE.

[_Bowing to LILY slightly and drawing himself up._] Shall I-- take you to Mr. Cooling?

LILY.

[_With dignity, inclining her head._] Will you? [_She is putting her hand through his arm when the look upon his face softens her. She drops her voice to a whisper._] Have I hurt you?

FARNCOMBE.

Oh, I deserve the rebuke.

LILY.

No, you don't. [_Gently._] You may leave me at my door, with the others, if it will give you any satisfaction.

[_As they walk to the door on the left, they are met by COOLING._

COOLING.

[_To LILY, breathlessly._] Haw! Here you are!

LILY.

[_Leaving FARNCOMBE, her manner altering completely._] Come on, Morrie! [_Her feet moving to the music._] Tra, lal, la! Tra, lal, la! [_Giving her bouquet to FARNCOMBE._] Hi-i-i-i-i! Bring my flowers!

COOLING AND LILY.

Tra, lal, la! Tra, lal, la----!

[_They run out, half dancing._

STIDULPH.

[_Calling to FARNCOMBE, who is following them._] Lord Farncombe!

FARNCOMBE.

Yes?

STIDULPH.

[_Going to him._] Will you spare me a moment?

FARNCOMBE.

[_A little impatiently._] Er-- certainly.

STIDULPH.

[_Laying a shaky hand on FARNCOMBE'S arm and leading him away from the door._] Excuse me for what I'm going to say to you. I-- I know your father-- knew him very well years ago-- and your mother. [_With deep feeling._] My boy-- my dear boy----

FARNCOMBE.

[_Surprised._] Colonel?

STIDULPH.

I-- I-- I'm sorry to find you in this set.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Stiffly._] What do you mean?

STIDULPH.

Don't be angry with me. I'm an old man-- and an old fool; but it's from the fools that the useful lessons are to be learned.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Withdrawing his arm from STIDULPH._] I really don't understand you.

STIDULPH.

Try to. Not now-- another time; when this music isn't exciting you, nor these pretty women. Think it out by yourself! You're at the beginning of your career, my boy. Remember me-- the old fool who's brought _his_ to a miserable end-- and that I cautioned you-- cautioned you--!

[_LUIGI hurries in at the door on the left, followed by a waiter carrying a tray, and by the waiter with the beard._

LUIGI.

[_Laughing._] He, he, he, he! [_Behind the counter, preparing drinks._] Look out, gentlemen; you are losing it all. They are having a romp-- a fine lark. [_FARNCOMBE goes out at the door on the left._] Make haste, Colonel; make haste! [_STIDULPH goes out, slowly, at the right-hand door at the back._] Whiskey-and-soda for Mr. Tavish; liqueur of brandy-- Mr. Grimwood. [_The waiter carrying the tray goes out with the drinks at the door on the left._] Ha, ha, ha! [_Singing to the music._] Tra, lal, la! Tra, lal, la----!

[_LUIGI is following the waiter who has carried out the tray when the bearded waiter, coming to the nearer settee in the centre, calls to him._

THE BEARDED WAITER.

[_Sitting upon the settee, gruffly._] Luigi.

LUIGI.

[_Halting._] Eh?

THE BEARDED WAITER.

[_Taking out a handful of money and selecting some gold from it._] Here! [_Putting the gold into LUIGI'S palm._] For your chaps.

LUIGI.

Oh, you are spoiling them.

THE BEARDED WAITER.

[_Giving some more gold pieces to LUIGI._] For you.

LUIGI.

[_Bowing low._] Thank you very much. [_With a polite grin, as he disposes of the coins in different pockets._] Hope you have enjoyed yourself, Captain.

THE BEARDED WAITER.

[_Speaking in the voice of JEYES._] Thoroughly. [_Quietly, between his teeth._] Warm work, though! [_Rising slowly, like a man with stiff joints._] I'll be off now, with your permission.

LUIGI.

See you at lunch, Captain?

JEYES.

Probably. [_Nodding._] Good-night. Good morning. [_He slouches away to the door on the left and there stops, listening. There is the sound of people approaching, singing uproariously and shouting and laughing._] Hullo!

LUIGI.

[_At his elbow._] Ho, ho, ho, ho!

[_LUIGI goes out into the corridor and JEYES retreats behind the counter. The noise increases and presently FULKERSON rushes in, flourishing his arms madly. He is followed by GLYNN and SHIRLEY who are carrying LILY upon their interlocked hands, and by PALK who is helping to support her. Then come HENEAGE and NITA, GRIMWOOD and DAPHNE, TAVISH and FLO, VON RETTENMAYER and ENID, DE CASTRO and GABRIELLE, ROPER and MRS. STIDULPH, FARNCOMBE and JIMMIE, BLAND and EVANGELINE, COOLING and SYBIL, and SMYTHE and OLGA. Singing the chorus of the "Mind the Paint" song, and dancing to it wildly, they circle the saloon twice, go out at the right-hand door at the back, return at the door on the left, and finally disappear through the double-door and along the landing. The waiters, who have brought up the rear of the procession, gather, with LUIGI, in the left-hand corner, clapping their hands, and STIDULPH returns, entering at the right-hand door at the back._

LILY.

[_Waving her bouquet and shrieking with laughter._] Ha, ha, ha, ha! Don't drop me! Don't drop me!

HENEAGE AND GRIMWOOD.

[_Yelling._] Whoop! Whoop!

FULKERSON.

[_Deliriously, endeavouring to stand upon his head._] Wh-o-o-op!

JIMMIE.

[_Breaking from the rank and jumping on to the further settee-- singing._] "Mind the paint! Mind the paint! A girl is not a sinner just because she's not a saint!----"

LILY.

Ha, ha, ha! You'll drop me! Oh----!

[_As the procession passes out of sight, followed by LUIGI and the waiters, JEYES departs at the door on the left and STIDULPH once more goes to the counter and lights a cigarette._

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

THE THIRD ACT

_The scene is LILY'S boudoir-- a room upon the second floor of her house, adjoining her bedroom. The decorations, though delicate, are gay, with a good deal of pink in them._

_In the wall facing the spectator are two doors, one on the left, the other in the centre. The left-hand door opens into the room from the landing, where the staircase is shown; the centre door admits to the bedroom. In the right-hand wall there are two sash-windows giving a view of the tops of trees growing in a square; in the opposite wall, the grate hidden by a low, painted screen, is the fireplace._