A cosy little house, no doubt, containing possibilities of comfort. But after the Grange—ah, there was the rub? Everything in this world is comparative! What one man counts to be luxury, because of what went before, another counts to be beggarliness, from the same cause.
Nigel had the key, and he let Fulvia in, following her. They tramped steadily over the interior, from bottom to top, hearing the echo of their own feet on the bare boards. Reaching again the front ground-floor room, when all had been inspected, Nigel said—
"Well?"
"Is this the best we can afford?"
"Forty pounds a year, not counting taxes. I dare not go beyond that. If things did not promise to be a degree better than we thought at first, we could not venture on so much."
"Madre will not like an upstairs drawing-room."
"I'm afraid there are a groat many things that she will not like."
"There will be a study for you."
"Behind this? Why not make it a morning-room for everybody?"
"No; a study, of course. You will be the breadwinner, and your needs must be considered first. A study for you is a necessity. Madre must have the bedroom on the next floor,—behind the drawing-room. She will have Daisy to sleep with her permanently, I hope; and there is the dressing room for Daisy to use. Anice can have the little half-way room jutting out at the back; and you—if you don't mind—the one over it. Then there will be the top front bedroom for friends. We can make it look very pretty."