--save for a single exception--was unchanged;
the furniture and decorations preserved their eternal youth undimmed
by time; the rigidly-arranged rooms, now closed to life and light,
developed more than ever their resemblance to a furniture warehouse.
The single exception was the room which Grace Nevil had rearranged for
herself; and that, oddly enough, was stripped and bare--even to its
paper and mouldings.

In other respects, the sealed treasures of Rushbrook's villa, far from
provoking any sentimentality, seemed only to give truth to the current
rumor that it was merely waiting to be transformed into a gorgeous
watering-place hotel under Rushbrook's direction; that, with its new
ball-room changed into an elaborate dining-hall, it would undergo still
further improvement, the inevitable end and object of all Rushbrook's
enterprise; and that its former proprietor had already begun another
villa whose magnificence should eclipse the last. There certainly
appeared to be no limit to the millionaire's success in all that he
personally undertook, or in his fortunate complicity with the enterprise
and invention of others. His name was associated with the oldest
and safest schemes, as well as the newest and boldest--with an equal
guarantee of security. A few, it was true, looked doubtingly upon this
"one man power," but could not refute the fact that others had largely
benefited by association with him, and that he shared his profits with
a royal hand. Some objected on higher grounds to his brutalizing
the influence of wealth by his material and extravagantly practical
processes, instead of the gentler suggestions of education and personal
example, and were impelled to point out the fact that he and his
patronage were vulgar. It was felt, however, by those who received his
benefits, that a proper sense of this inferiority was all that ethics
demanded of them. One could still accept Rushbrook's barbaric gifts by
humorously recognizing the fact that he didn't know any better, and that
it pleased him, as long as they resented any higher pretensions.

The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook's town house, however, were
cheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dined
alone; in fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the unfinished
business of the day was concluded over his bountiful and perfect board.
He was dressing as James entered the room.

"Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner."

"All