aven't time to examine it."

"Are you sure that I haven't?" returned I, drawing a step nearer to
escape the eyes of Mrs. Daniels who had descended after me.

"Quite sure;" and we hastened down together into the yard.

But my curiosity once aroused in this way would not let me rest. Taking
an opportunity when Mr. Gryce was engaged in banter with the girls
below, and in this way learning more in a minute of what he wanted to
know than some men would gather in an hour by that or any other method,
I stole lightly back and entered this room.

I almost started in my surprise. Instead of the luxurious apartment I
had prepared myself to behold, a plain, scantily-furnished room opened
before me, of a nature between a library and a studio. There was not
even a carpet on the polished floor, only a rug, which strange to say
was not placed in the centre of the room or even before the fireplace,
but on one side, and directly in front of a picture that almost at first
blush had attracted my attention as being the only article in the room
worth looking at. It was the portrait of a woman, handsome, haughty and
alluring; a modern beauty, with eyes of fire burning beneath high piled
locks of jetty blackness, that were only relieved from being too intense
by the scarlet hood of an opera cloak, that was drawn over them. "A
sister," I thought to myself, "it is too modern for his mother," and I
took a step nearer to see if I could trace any likeness in the chiselled
features of this disdainful brunette, to the more characteristic ones
of the careless gentleman who had stood but a few moments before in my
presence. As I did so, I was struck with the distance with which
the picture stood out from the wall, and thought to myself that
the awkwardness of the framing came near marring the beauty of this
otherwise lovely work of art. As for the likeness I was in search of, I
found it or thought I did, in the expression of the eyes which were
of the same color as Mr. Blake's but more full and passionate; and
satisfied that I had exhausted all the picture could tell me, I
turned to make what other observations I could, when I was startled by
confronting the agitated countenance of Mrs. Daniels who had entered
behind me.

"This is Mr. Blake's room," said she with dignity; "no one ever intrudes
here but myself, not even the servants."

"I beg pardon," said I, glancing around in vain for the something which
had awakened that look of satisfaction in