Mr. Dickson and his
army of workmen had taken their departure, and the rooms prepared for my
wife were beyond all praise.
The boudoir was hung in blue and silver; it was a perfect little
fairyland; nothing was wanting to make it a nest of luxury. The boudoir
opened into a pretty little library, where all the books that I thought
would please Agatha were arranged. There was a dressing-room, a
bath-room and a sleeping-room, all en suite. Mr. Dickson had improvised
a pretty flight of stairs leading into a small conservatory, and that
opened into the garden.
When the pictures, the flowers, the statues, the rich hangings and the
graceful ornaments were all arranged, I was more pleased than I had been
for some time. Lady Thesiger came over to look at them, but my darling
was not to see them until they were her own.
There was an unpleasant duty to perform. What was to be done with
Coralie? Knowing Lady Thesiger's opinion of her, I felt sure she would
never allow her daughter to live in the same house. What was to be done
with her? Where was she to go? I did not know in the least what to
suggest. I was perfectly willing to offer her a very handsome allowance,
knowing that, as Sir Barnard's charge, she had some claim on me.
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