Drouet had taken three rooms, furnished, in Ogden Place, facing Union Park, on the West Side.
That was a little, green-carpeted breathing spot than which, to-day, there is nothing more beautiful in Chicago.

It afforded a vista pleasant to contemplate.

The best room looked out upon the lawn of the park, now sear and brown, where a little lake lay sheltered.

Over the bare limbs of the trees, which now swayed in the wintry wind, rose the steeple of the Union park Congregational Church, and far off the towers of several others.
The rooms were comfortably enough furnished.

There was good Brussels carpet on the floor, rich in dull red and lemon shades, and representing large jardinieres filled with gorgeous, impossible flowers.