"They'll have to go into your room, Stella," Mrs. Gray said, desperately: the one casualty they were unprepared for at Grassmere was guests, and poor little Mrs. Gray was very helpless out of her settled routine. "The spare room is all upset, for I never dreamed it would be needed. You can go into the little hall-room for to-night, can't you?"
"Oh, certainly, mamma," said Stella; "but don't you be worried about entertaining these gentlemen. If they hadn't been prepared for roughing it, they never would have come out here; and as for providing for their comfort in the style they have been accustomed to, that it would be nonsense to attempt."
"How do you know what they have been accustomed to?" said Mrs. Gray. "It isn't safe to judge by looks."
"I think it's safe in this case," said Stella, "at least so far as to say that these two men are gentlemen who have been accustomed to ease and elegance all their lives."
So she made her sweet, old-fashioned bedroom prettier than usual, with some freshly-gathered flowers, and when the two young men found themselves within it, when they went up for a moment before tea, they gave vent to the amazement it aroused in them by only half-suppressed ejaculations.
"By George!" said Mr. Bertrand.
"By Jove!" said Mr. Estcott,
"But won't Hobart and Unc. be disgusted?" said Bertrand next.
"I really think," returned Estcott, "that it would be as well not to go into the particulars of our visit. Hobart, as likely as not, would cut our concern and return to New York: you know that was his reason for preferring to buy a ranch farther West and in a more remote locality: he wanted to do the thing thoroughly, or not at all. I can hear him exclaiming that he can stand the civilization of New York, but not the civilization of these pats!"
"Do look here, will you, at the contents of this book-shelf,—Tennyson, and Mrs. Browning, and Longfellow, if you please! and the pictures, too,—the Buguenots, here, and Romeo and Juliet."
"'A little rudimentary,' would be Unc.'s comment, I fancy," said Estcott.
"And here we have Max and Thekla," went on Bertrand. "I really think your idea is a good one, Estcott. We had better suppress all particulars. Unc. is not likely to go about very much, even when he gets well and strong again,—dear old man,—but I'm sure if he once knew it was possible to run up against this sort of thing he'd never leave the place."
"Evidently this is the young girl's room," went on Bertrand. "It's
