ONE OF THE NEW YORK DRESSES As she went down the staircase later, on her way to dinner, Miss Vanderpoel saw on all sides signs of the extent of the nakedness of the land.

She was in a fine old house, stripped of most of its saleable belongings, uncared for, deteriorating year by year, gradually going to ruin.

One need not possess particular keenness of sight to observe this, and she had chanced to see old houses in like condition in other countries than England.

A man-servant, in a shabby livery, opened the drawing-room door for her.

He was not a picturesque servitor of fallen fortunes, but an awkward person who was not accustomed to his duties.
Betty wondered if he had been called in from the gardens to meet the necessities of the moment.