^2i EACECOUESE AND COVEET SIDE. 



the discussion of the good wine. I like Green- 

 wood extremely — I don't remember ever liking 

 him more; and I am certain he likes me. I 

 feel, in fact, on good terms with everybody, 

 even Chippenham. The things he said about 

 my last book were harsh and ridiculous. It 

 wasn't criticism. But then, perhaps his diges- 

 tion was not all that it might have been, and 

 I forgive him. 



The room is so comfortable, the chair so 

 easy, the fire warm without being scorching; 

 the cigarettes are within easy reach when, the 

 claret having been discussed, we are inclined to 

 smoke, and the lamp on the bracket throws a 

 mild light on the portrait of old Eosalind, the 

 good mare over whom I landed a nice stake in 

 the County Steeplechase just when I wanted it 

 more badly than usual (if so slight a difference 

 is worth naming), and who carried me so smoothly 

 and comfortably on many subsequent occasions, 

 when she had grown a bit too slow for successful 

 exploits between the flags. 



The music of Mrs. Greenwood's piano comes 

 softly and pleasantly through the curtained door, 

 and her sister Ethel sings well enough to make 

 listening to her a pleasure. A charming girl she 

 is, too ; unaffected and clever. Old Fan, the 

 fox-terrier, strolls into the room, looks up into 



