R,CHARD MONCKTON MILNES was born in the year - OUDL Home

74 Walter de la Marerichly but lightly decorated in the Pompeian style; the hangingsof soft amber, fringed and relieved with borders of red-brownvelvet.The dinner was perfection. The poetically-arranged dessert, withits delicate service of engraved glass and silver, the profusion offlowers, the noiseless attendance which seemed to anticipate everywant, the easy elegance, the quiet simplicity, made one forget, bythe absence of effort, the immense cost at which this completenesswas attained.But Maggie, one of the guests at this feast, is not quiteat her ease, for her rival shares its perfection, and this isher demi-toilette:.. .rich, dull, thick silk, of the most delicate spring-like green,with quantities of priceless white lace, and emeralds sparkling atears and throat—a sort of half-subdued sparkle in her great eyes,and a rich colour in her clear brunette cheek.'Can the force of civilisation further go?' thought Trafford, ashe unfolded his napkin and prepared to enjoy his potage a laprintanier....And here is Mr Lascelles' drawing-room, the Mecca ofhis ' spiritual harem':The table was deal, with heavy, plainly-squared legs and a plain,unornamented 'autumn-leaf table cover; the old oak chairs werestiff, hard, and straight-backed, and there was not an arm-chair, nora lounge, nor a sofa anywhere. The cold grey walls were hung witha few pictures—all sacred subjects; some in oils, copies from theOld Masters, and some of the Arundel Society set in plain whiteframes, without even a gilded edge. A few flowers in gres deFlandres vases gave the sole signs of living life there were; butthese were only on two brackets which flanked the feet of a largecarved ivory crucifix—an antique—that hung against the wall....It was a room that suggested more than it expressed....And last, here is Lady Lanchester's country-housedining-room bedecked for an improvised 'hop'.I don't wish to see a more cheery scene than the Wentworthdining-room—transmogrified with pink calico and Union Jacks andwreaths of evergreens and flowers, it hardly knew itself, the bandconsisting of a big fiddle, a little fiddle, harp and bones.