height than if it had been arched over by the sky itself. A large medallion enclosed a group of gods and goddesses, sporting in the clouds, painted by Verrio, who seemed to echo back the sounds and words uttered below. Round this medallion was a richly embossed scroll or frame-work, that wound itself in many intricate folds and curious twists, descending every here and there down to the walls, where it encircled single figures of the heathen deities, painted by the same master of his art. Rich and singular was this roof of man's work, and, as we were taught to believe, unequalled in art and beauty.

Three large casement windows on one side of the room, and two on the adjoining one, poured in light and sunshine sufficient to bring out every intricate pattern, casting strong shadows between them, which but enhanced the light.

The embrasures of the windows were large, forming sills four feet in depth, com

posed of polished chestnut wood, which ordinarily we used as pleasant seats, shaded from observation by heavy curtains of crimson velvet. These were scarcely moved by the light summer breeze that blew in at the wide open casements, but they cast back the beams of the sun in rosy hues all aslant, making that rich and bright which was time-stained and decayed.

For the furniture was ancient and grey, worn with ever vigilant dusting, as with use, so that the heavy carvings were undefined by gilded mouldings, long since dimmed and erased. The silk coverings flared with strange flowers and birds, grotesque from the fading of some of the colours, and imperturbable freshness of others incongruous as rouge on a faded cheek. The carpet covered but a portion of the

room, and was of French manufacture resembling tapestry. The groundwork had been blue, now faded in regular lines,. marking the beams from the windows in

pale shadowy white, wholly lustreless. The floor was of oak, dark as ebony with age and polish, reflecting back the heavy chairs and tables, shadowy legs meeting the real ones. The room was panelled with chestnut wood; the cornice, a hand's breadth stood out from the wall, four feet from the ground; on this rested the frames of some ancient family pictures depicting our ancestors as large as life.

In one corner of the room was a skeleton clock, its mechanism all exposed, and bearing old Dutch inscriptions and characters upon it. A large rotatory brass-mounted bookcase filled the other; while the end of the room was wholly given up to an elaborately decorated fireplace.

The chimney-piece was composed of three stories, beginning with a white marble plinth, on which was exquisitely carved delicate branches of flowers, baskets of fruit, with little Cupids sporting between.

Above was a representation of Ceres,

with all her attendants and attributes, cut out in Spanish wood with infinite delicacy and art. Higher still was Jupiter, holding a court of the celestial bodies, his own august head touching the ceiling, while the lowest gods of all were just within my reach. On either side of the mantel-piece were deep recesses, which held on their ebony shelves specimens of every description of china, arranged in order, from the cumbrous old Plymouth crockery up to the most delicate porcelain, including works of art that our father would point out to us as matchless, one set in particular, of Sèvres, on every cup of which was an enamelled portrait worth fifty guineas, and the saucers were enriched with jewels. The teapots, ewers, and sugar basins were interlaced with bars of gold banded together with a jewel.

We admired while we wondered at the genius and expense bestowed on that which was useless. They were too costly and

fragile to be touched, yet bearing the form of service. This incongruity was of use, in preparing us for discords in most things, rousing within us the desire to extract melody or good under any combination. As yet we were unconscious of the necessity, for our lives had flowed with the noiseless calm of a broad and pleasant river, hitherto unruffled by the slightest breezę. Like the roses with which my sisters had laden themselves, we existed in sunshine and fragrance, and had neither tasted nor experienced the bitterness of neglect, or the pang of disappoint

ment.

As the zephyrs blew in and out of the casements, they sent the perfume of the roses in pleasant gushes through the room, and the soft low laughter of my whiterobed sisters was fitting music to accompany them. them. They decorated each other with the prettiest buds, until their faces peeped out from beneath the crimson