Her carpet was of green felt, matching in shade the foliage of the chintz.

On suspended shelves stood the books which she desired to have near her, and round about the walls hung prints, photographs, chromolithographs, selected in an honest spirit of admiration, which on the whole did no discredit to Nancy's sensibilities.
To the best of Nancy's belief, her father had never seen this room.
On its completion she invited him to inspect it, but Mr.Lord coldly declined, saying that he knew nothing, and cared nothing, about upholstery.
His return to-day was earlier than usual.

Shortly after five o'clock Nancy heard the familiar heavy step in the passage, and went downstairs.
'Will you have a cup of tea, father ?' she asked, standing by the door of the back room, which was ajar.
'If it's ready,' replied a deep voice.
She entered the dining-room, and rang the bell.

In a few minutes Mary Woodruff appeared, bringing tea and biscuits.

She was a neat, quiet, plain-featured woman, of strong physique, and with set lips, which rarely parted save for necessary speech.