"It's a curious, little-known disease, from what I can make out.

The doctor told me he thought she had had it for a long time--or, at any rate, that she had had it for some years before she married Mr.Varick." There was a pause.
"I wonder why they didn't come and live here ?" said Miss Farrow thoughtfully.
"Oh, but she hated Wyndfell Hall! You see, her father's whole mind had been set on nothing but this house, and making it as perfect as possible.

It was in a dreadful state when he inherited it from an old cousin; yet he was offered, even so, an enormous sum for some of the wonderful oak ceilings.

But he refused the offer--indignantly, and he set himself to make it what it must have been hundreds of years ago." "He hardly succeeded in doing that," observed Blanche Farrow dryly.

"Our ancestors lived less comfortably than we do now, Miss Brabazon.