rcely received any impression of it yet, but now he
perceived that it was greatly changed in some respects. A new fireplace,
and a mantel of a dainty cabinet-like design, replaced the former
streaked framework of marble that had enshrined a great rococo grate.
The double leaf door that led to some adjoining room had had its hanging
stripped away, and the beauty of panelling showed naked and unashamed.
The former carpet had gone; there were now soft Eastern rugs on the
floor lying closely side by side, and covering it entirely. But though
the Chippendale bookcases and the rest of the furniture had been left
untouched, there was somehow a more intimate personal note about the
room; accentuated perhaps by the trifles and photographs clustered
about the mantelshelf. And then Wyndham came to an abrupt stop as if
some sheet of flame had flashed by and seared him. There in the centre
of the mantel, next to a tiny clock shaped like a Gothic arch, stood the
silver easel bearing the framed photograph of his old Academy
picture--his wedding present to Lady Betty!

Why was it here in this house? he asked himself, trembling. Had she left
it behind because she esteemed it so lightly? Or was there perhaps some
special significance in the fact; something his thought groped for
wildly and blindly as if in panic?

He staggered back to the window, astonished to find how overcome he had
been. The air revived him, and then a new and sterner spirit came upon
him. Was he going to waste his whole morning by yielding himself to
these idle and futile emotions? Resolutely he prepared his palette, and
bent his mind by force to his task. He was pleased presently to find how
exactly his eye recovered his scene; he felt he could almost lay the one
he had painted over this one, and that it would fit like a transfer.
Slowly and carefully he let the view sink into him, estimating the
tones, the masses, the spaces; peopling it in his mind with all the
figures and accessories that went to build up his great symbolic
representation. Then he set one of the smaller canvasses on his knee,
and started his note-making. Soon he was absorbed in the work, glad
that he had forced himself to begin, and that the little wheels of his
mind were turning so smoothly.

At eleven the butler appeared with wine and sandwiches, moved a little
table over near Wyndham, and set down the tray within reach of his hand.
Wyndham was glad of this refreshment; he had been in too unc