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with the architect over that particular niche, though it had to be built in gross violation of “periods” and of all architectural conscience. She had been long used to the diplomacies of “the interview,” and her experience with her sister’s numerous admirers—aspirants to future engagements, or “broken-off” lovers on the retired list—led her to desiderate above all things the repose of some quiet spot where an undisturbed conversation could be carried on. Her previous council-chamber had been the old summer-house in the vegetable garden—the only place where she might hope for half an hour’s quiet, unbroken by the noisy claims of her large family, or the maraudings of the servants for orders; but this charming little latticed recess had not yet been made use of, and Carrie saw her opportunity to inaugurate it now in a friendly way and for a good cause.

“Isn’t this a nice quiet little spot to rest and be thankful in?” she chattered gaily to her companion. “We can see all that is going on underneath us, and no one knows we are looking on and seeing the game. How do you like this Cairo lattice-screen? It’s genuine; we got it sent out by a friend in Egypt—one of Adeline’s old lovers. Now there is my dear old judge looking everywhere for me. See how faithful