"
"An hour lost," thought Cecil; but she was too well bred to grumble,
and she had her great work to carry on of copying and illustrating
her journal.
Mrs. Poynsett readily consented. "Oh yes, my dear, let her do
whatever she likes. Don't let me be a bugbear. A girl is never at
home till she has had her will of the furniture. I think she will
find that moving out the piano betrays the fading of the rest of the
paper, but that is her affair. She is free to do just as she likes.
I dare say the place does look antediluvian to young eyes."
So Raymond was the bearer of his mother's full permission; and Cecil
presided with great energy over the alterations, which she carried
out by the aid of the younger servants, to the great disgust of
their seniors. She expected the acclamations of her contemporaries;
but it happened that the first of them to cross the room was Julius,
on his way to his mother's room after luncheon, and he, having on a
pair of make-shift glasses, till the right kind could be procured
from London, was unprepared for obstacles in familiar regions,
stumbled over an ottoman, and upset a table with the breakage of a
vase.
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