Bird,—who was rushing up stairs, alarmed by Mr. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it.
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