"Everything," was the reply. "In the house, that is to say. The works are still carried on. Mr. Swanland wrote to Archie to say we could have the furniture at a certain valuation, and I answered the letter. If it is preserved among the archives of the house of Swanland, some future young cygnet of that ilk will marvel who the D. Mortomley was that penned such an epistle. Fancy when he knew how we were situated making such an offer. Just as if he believed we had a secret purse."
"He might have imagined your friends would come forward to help at such a crisis," said Mrs. Werner gently.
"I do not think Mr. Swanland's imagination ever took such an erratic flight as that," answered Dolly bitterly.
"Did you see the old place before it was dismantled?" inquired Mrs. Werner. "I suppose not."
"Yes. I had to go over to point out an inlaid desk Mrs. Dean had forgotten in the excitement of her departure. Mr. Dean went to Mr. Swanland and mentioned the omission. Mr. Swanland said that if Mrs. Dean would call at Homewood and point out the article in question to his man, it should be taken to Salisbury House, there to await Mr. Dean's orders. Mr. Dean thought Mrs. Dean could not possibly go to Homewood in the present unhappy state of affairs. He suggested that 'his wife, etcetera, etcetera,' and Mr. Swanland said,
"'Quite so; yes, exactly.' Lang, who happened to be in the outer office, heard all this and told me about it.
"Then Mr. Dean and Mr. Swanland both wrote, requesting me to go to Homewood and point out the curiosity, and though very much inclined to say 'No,' still I went."
"Poor dear Dolly!" ejaculated Mrs. Werner, for there was a break in her friend's voice.
"I am glad I went," Mrs. Mortomley went on; "glad I saw the old home with its death face on. Otherwise, I might in fancy have imagined Homewood still alive, and it is dead. I should tell you that Meadows is no longer Mr. Swanland's lord-lieutenant there. The evening we left Homewood he went out with some of the men and got drunk, a process he repeated so often that at the end of a fortnight he was laid up with what he called inflammation of the lungs, and had to be carried off the premises. Then Mr. Swanland sent down another man, and that man took his wife into residence with him, together with five of the very ugliest children I ever beheld. They all squinted horribly—they all followed me about the place—they all looked at me—'so,'" and Dolly distorted the axis of her eyes to such an extent that Mrs. Werner covered hers up and said,
"Don't, Dolly; pray, pray, don't. Think if your eyes should remain as they are."