otection. She had found one painting, by an Italian master, the
subject of which reminded her of Miltoun; and before this she sat for a
very long time, attracting at last the gouty stare of an official. The
still figure of this lady, with the oval face and grave beauty, both
piqued his curiosity, and stimulated certain moral qualms. She, was
undoubtedly waiting for her lover. No woman, in his experience, had ever
sat so long before a picture without ulterior motive; and he kept his
eyes well opened to see what this motive would be like. It gave him,
therefore, a sensation almost amounting to chagrin when coming round once
more, he found they had eluded him and gone off together without coming
under his inspection. Feeling his feet a good deal, for he had been on
them all day, he sat down in the hollow which she had left behind her;
and against his will found himself also looking at the picture. It was
painted in a style he did not care for; the face of the subject, too,
gave him the queer feeling that the gentleman was being roasted inside.
He had not been sitting there long, however, before he perceived the lady
standing by the picture, and the lips of the gentleman in the picture
moving. It seemed to him against the rules, and he got up at once, and
went towards it; but as he did so, he found that his eyes were shut, and
opened them hastily. There was no one there.

From the National Gallery, Audrey had gone into an A.B.C. for tea, and
then home. Before the Mansions was a taxi-cab, and the maid met her with
the news that 'Lady Caradoc' was in the sitting-room.

Barbara was indeed standing in the middle of the room with a look on her
face such as her father wore sometimes on the racecourse, in the hunting
field, or at stormy Cabinet Meetings, a look both resolute and sharp.
She spoke at once:

"I got your address from Mr. Courtier. My brother is ill. I'm afraid
it'll be brain fever, I think you had better go and see him at his rooms
in the Temple; there's no time to be lost."

To Audrey everything in the room seemed to go round; yet all her senses
were preternaturally acute, so that she could distinctly smell the mud of
the river at low tide. She said, with a shudder:

"Oh! I will go; yes, I will go at once."

"He's quite alone. He hasn't asked for you; but I think your going is
the only chance. He took me for you. You told me once you were a good
nurse."

"Yes."

The room was steady enough now