In the town of Durdlebury, Doggie Trevor began to feel appreciated. He could play the piano, the harp, the viola, the flute, and the clarionette, and sing a mild tenor. Besides music, Doggie had other accomplishments. He could choose the exact shade of silk for a drawing-room sofa cushion, and he had an excellent gift for the selection of wedding-presents. All in all, Marmaduke Trevor was a young gentleman of exquisite taste.
After breakfast on a certain July morning, Doggie, attired in a green shot-silk dressing-gown, entered his own particular room and sat down to think. In its way it was a very beautiful room—high, spacious, well-proportioned, facing southeast. The wall-paper, which Doggie had designed himself, was ivory white, with trimmings of peacock blue. Vellum-bound books filled the cases; delicate water-colors adorned the walls. On his writing-table lay an ivory set: inkstand, pen-tray, blotter, and calendar. Bits of old embroidery, harmonizing with the peacock shades, were spread here and there. A spinet inlaid with ivory formed the center for the arrangement of other musical instruments—a viol, mandolins, and flutes. One tall, closed cabinet was devoted to Doggie's collection of wall-papers.

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