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114 hidden by the arched book-cases; and the ponderous tomes, mostly bound in black or white vellum, long since grown dingy with age, contrasted forcibly with the gayer ornaments of their habitation.

The chimney-piece was of party-coloured marble, covered with figures, some of whose faces were beautiful, but generally running off into those grotesque combinations which characterised the peculiar taste of their time. Fire there was none; but a large china jar was filled with green boughs and flowers, and occupied nearly the whole hearth. Opposite was a range of some half-dozen narrow high windows, through which the sunbeams came slanting, and seemed striving to make acquaintance with heavy arm-chairs, covered with elaborate embroidery—with the dusky shelves, whence glittered occasionally the silver clasps of some old volume—and with an antique cabinet, whose open doors showed a collection of toys, cumbrous and odd-looking, but a convincing proof that the taste for nicknacks is no modern invention.

Towards one of the windows a table was drawn, and there, loitering over the remains of an ample breakfast, were seated Lord Avonleigh and his son,—sometimes talking eagerly, and looking