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yellow ground between made gravel walks, and so helped out a long
perspective of trim gardens.

He was rambling in imagination on these terraces, when he heard the
cough once more. Raising himself a little in the bed, he looked
about him.

The same room, certainly, but with what unbounded astonishment did he
see bottles, and basins, and articles of linen airing by the fire--all
very clean and neat, but quite different from anything he had left there
when he went to bed! The atmosphere too filled with a cool smell of
herbs and vinegar; the floor newly sprinkled; the--the what?--the
Marchioness!

Yes; playing cribbage with herself at the table. There she sat, intent


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