INGATH'S VOOER. 355 



others. She began to feel bitter at thought of those 

 ancestors of hers spending much love and money upon 

 the passion of the hour, and bequeathing no morsel of 

 either cash or affection to the last daughter of their 

 name. Before long, prose smothered poetry, and Miss 

 Ingath ceased to tremble or weep at the sight of those 

 relics of the dead, but proceeded methodically and 

 briskly with her task. 



Each evening she took a short stroll out of doors, 

 and it usually happened that the big dog and its master 

 joined her in those walks. But be assured there was 

 nothing sentimental about those " constitutionals," and 

 no one dreamed of commenting upon the matter — so 

 grave and elderly Mr. Nemo looked, so prim and 

 spinsterly seemed Miss Ingath. Their conversation 

 was commonplace, and devoid of compliments on the 

 one hand and self-consciousness on the other. 



Mr. -Nemo would often talk of what he meant to do 

 with this field, and what he had done with that. He 

 would ask Miss Ingath's opinion about wall paper, and 

 the disposition of furniture. He would solicit her 

 advice regarding hedges and stone fences, until the 

 lady's interest in all his plans for the renovation of 

 Orgert was thoroughly roused, and she entered with 

 zest into his schemes. 



Before many weeks had elapsed great changes had 

 been wrought, and the old place had begun to put on 

 a look of home comfort such as it had not worn for 

 many a year. 



And Miss Ingath grew reconciled to those changes. 



