ht, from behind amber glass, sent a
golden glow as of sunshine through the room. The dank damp drip of autumn
had no place in this warm luxury. The curtains were closely drawn; and
that which is not seen, can be forgotten.

The doctor glanced at the clock. The minute-hand pointed to the quarter
before six.

He lifted his eyes to the picture.

"I hardly know Lord Ingleby sufficiently well to give an opinion; but I
should say it is an excellent likeness, possessing, to a large degree,
the peculiar quality of all Dalmain's portraits:--the more you look at
them, the more you see in them. They are such extraordinary character
studies. With your increased knowledge of the person, grows your
appreciation of the cleverness of the portrait."

"Yes," said Lady Ingleby, leaning forward to look intently up at the
picture. "It often startles me as I come into the room, because I see a
fresh expression on the face, just according to my own mood, or what I
happen to have been doing; and I realise Michael's mind on the subject
more readily from the portrait than from my own knowledge of him. Garth
Dalmain was a genius!"

"Now tell me," said the doctor, gently. "Why did you leave town, your
many friends, your interests there, in order to bury yourself down here,
during this dismal autumn weather? Surely the strain of waiting for news
would have been less, within such easy reach of the War Office and of the
evening papers."

Lady Ingleby laughed, rather mirthlessly.

"I came away, Sir Deryck, partly to escape from dear mamma; and as you do
not know dear mamma, it is almost impossible for you to understand how
essential it was to escape. When Michael is away, I am defenceless. Mamma
swoops down; takes up her abode in my house; reduces my household,
according to their sex and temperament, to rage, hysterics, or despair;
tells unpalatable home-truths to my friends, so that all--save the
duchess--flee discomforted. Then mamma proceeds to 'divide the spoil'! In
other words: she lies in wait for my telegrams, and opens them herself,
saying that if they contain _good_ news, a dutiful daughter should
delight in at once sharing it with her; whereas, if they contain _bad_
news, which heaven forbid!--and surely, with mamma snorting skyward,
heaven would not venture to do otherwise!--_she_ is the right person to
break it to me, gently. I bore it for six weeks; then fled down here,
well knowing that not even the dear delight of bullying me wo