Meanwhile, one of the subjects of their discussion was thoroughly enjoying her tour of Wyndfell Hall; and as she entered each of the curious, stately rooms upstairs and down, Helen Brabazon uttered an exclamation of pleasure and rather naive admiration.

Not a corner or a passage-way but had some fine piece of old furniture, some exquisite needle-picture or panel of tapestry, in keeping with the general character of the ancient dwelling place.
Her cicerone would have enjoyed their progress more had it not been that his companion frequently referred to his late wife.

"How strange that Milly did not love this wonderful old house!" she exclaimed.

And then, when they had gone a little further on, she suddenly asked: "I wish you'd tell me which was Milly's room?
Surely she must have been happy here sometimes!" But the new master of Wyndfell Hall had never even thought of asking which had been his wife's room.

And, on seeing the troubled, embarrassed look which crossed his face while he confessed his ignorance, Helen felt sharply sorry that she had asked the question.