The Hall in the Grove

MP3 Audio CD. CHAPTER I.

LITTLE BY-PATHS.

MRS. Robert Fenton sat down in the little red-cov- ^SSIIf ered chair in the dining-room, broom in hand, and wiped from her usually bright eyes two large tears.

That dining-room was a fair and pretty creation. A poem, or a picture, done into real life. Mrs. Fenton had never written a poem ; never painted a picture ; but she had woven a touch of the genius that has to do with these, into the furnishing of this home room. A sitting- room it was, as well as dining-room.

In fact, the proper name for it might have been the tea room ; for the prosaic meals of breakfast and dinner were taken in a commoner spot, and the dainty teas, set out on fair damask, and garnished with china and silver, were all that she permitted here.

There was nothing very remarkable about the fur nishings. I am not sure that the Fentons had money enough to be remarkable. There was just that delicate blending of shades and tints, just that disposal of a few yards of muslin and lace, just that arrangement of a pot of ferns and a jar of fuchsias and a box of violets, that, united, form a fair whole; resting the eyes ? yes, and the very hearts of lookers-on.

As a housekeeper, as a wife, as a mother, Mrs. Fenton excelled. Her own small hands performed all the lighter duties in the home, and performed them well. Her bread was of the lightest and sweetest. Her cham bers were kept in that delicate purity which rests weary- heads, and sometimes hearts. Her windows were as clear as hands could make them ; her snowy curtains were looped in graceful folds, and with just the right tint of ribbon to blend well with surroundings. Her vines and plants climbed and budded and blossomed in luxurious fashion. Her husband's buttons were always in place, held by firm threads of her placing ; his collars and cuffs shone brilliantly, for her own hands clear starched and ironed them.