Her manner always piques one to go on talking for the sake of making her smile.

I can just imagine how she looks now, while Lady Ledbitter talks to her.

Well, come to your own room, John, and we will stroll round the grounds until her ladyship has retreated." What a beautiful old house it was! One could tell so easily that a lady of taste and refinement presided over it.

The fine old oak was not covered, but contrasting with it were thick, crimson rugs, hangings of crimson velvet, and it was relieved by any amount of flowers; beautiful pictures were hung with exquisite taste; white statues stood out in grand relief against the dark walls.
"Your wife is a woman of taste, that is quite evident, Lance," I said.
My own room--a spacious chamber called the Blue Chamber--a large, old-fashioned room with three windows, each window seat as large as a small room; the hangings were of blue and white; there were a few jardinieres with costly, odorous flowers; easy chairs, a comfortable couch.

Little stands had been placed with easy chairs in the window seats; the room looked as though bluebells had been strewn with a liberal hand on white ground.
"How beautiful!" I cried; "I shall never want to leave this room again, Lance." "I wish you would stay and never leave us; I am happy enough in having Frances; if I had you as well, my happiness would be complete.