eager to see it, too," said Gregory, with a pang of
self-reproach. "Of course we must wait tea."

The porter, in the passage, was carrying away the outer boards of the
packing-case and in the drawing-room they found Barker, knee deep in
straw, ripping the heavy sacking covering that enveloped a much
diminished but still enormous parcel.

Gregory came to his aid. They drew forth fine shavings and unwrapped
layers of paper, neatly secured; slowly the core of the mystery
disclosed itself in a temple-like form with a roof of dull black lacquer
and dimly gilded inner walls, a thickly swathed figure wedged between
them. The gift was, they now perceived, a Chinese Bouddha in his shrine,
and, as Gregory and Barker disengaged the figure and laid it upon the
ground, amusement, though still of an acrid sort, overcame Gregory's
vexation. "A Bouddha, upon my word!" he said. "This is a gorgeous gift."

Karen stooped to help unroll as if from a mummy, the multitudinous
bandages of fine paper; the passive bronze visage of the idol was
revealed, and by degrees, the seated figure, ludicrously prone. They
moved the temple to the end of the room, where two pictures were taken
down and a sofa pushed away to make room for it; the Bouddha was
hoisted, with difficulty, on to its lotus, and there, dark on its
glimmering background of gold, it sat and ambiguously blessed them.

Karen had worked with them neatly and expeditionary, and in silence, and
Gregory, glancing at her face from time to time, felt sure that she was
adjusting herself to a mingled bewilderment and disappointment; to the
wish also, that she might be worthy of her new possession. She stood now
before the Bouddha and gazed at it.

They had turned up the electric lights, but the curtains were not drawn
and the scent, and light, and vague, diffused roar of London at this
evening hour came in at the open windows. Barker, the porter and the
housemaid were carrying away the litter of paper and straw. The bright
cheerful room with its lovable banality and familiar comfort smiled its
welcome; and there, in the midst, the majestic and alien presence sat,
overpowering, and grotesque in its inappropriateness.

Karen now turned her eyes on her husband and slightly smiled. "It is
very wonderful," she said, "but I feel as if Tante expected a great deal
of me in giving it to me--a great deal more than is in me. It ought to
be a very deep and mystic person to have that Bouddha."

"Yes,