“Nothing.”
“Curious, too, that the carpet fits.”
“The carpet’s a mistake,” announced Helen. “I know that we had it in London, but this floor ought to be bare. It is far too beautiful.”
“You still have a mania for under-furnishing. Would you care to come into the dining-room before you start? There’s no carpet there.
They went in, and each minute their talk became more natural.
“Oh, what a place for mother’s chiffonier!” cried Helen.
“Look at the chairs, though.”
“Oh, look at them! Wickham Place faced north, didn’t it?”
“North-west.”
“Anyhow, it is thirty years since any of those chairs have felt the sun. Feel. Their little backs are quite warm.”