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SMALL bell sounds near her chair. She rises instantly, and even while she goes towards the door her look of deep study has passed away.

Frederick joins her in the corridor. A romp with the great kind tiger gives some picturesque grouping. Except the impress on features of thought that has been, and can again be, all expression of reflection has gone from their faces as the young people gambol along, laughing gaily at "Leo's unusual delight at leaving school."

We enter a large room, in which are their parents. Must I describe it? It seems to my mind anyone might imagine such an apartment in such an age of reason.

Bereft of all old curiosity lumber—which I firmly believe is only a device for causing work—it is sensibly and elegantly a room where one can walk or rest in comfort. Light-statues, of course; painted walls, I mean subject-painting; two tables; and a few very resting chairs of pretty workmanship. At the opposite end to the one by which we entered are three wide glass doors, opening on to the verandah. Thence looking over the garden, is a view more beautiful than any other I have seen.

In centre of the room is a pillar, having looking-glass all round without a visible line to mar the effect, which is exquisite, especially where it reflects that marvellous scenery so wondrously enchanting. Yet I have only power to