interest. There were two old-fashioned writing-tables--one looking as
if it was never used, and the other looking busy and homelike, with a
cabinet full of every conceivable sort of notepaper, trays full of
pens, and little candles to be lighted when one desired to affix
seals. On a roundabout conveniently near there were books of reference
that included the current volume of the _London Post Office
Directory_. The sofas and chairs were upholstered in dark green
leather, the chimney-piece was of carved marble, a few ancient and
rather dismal pictures hung almost out of sight on the walls; and
generally, the room would have produced an impression of a repellent
and ungenial kind of pomp, if it had not been for the extremely human
note struck by the large assortment of photographs.

These were dabbed about everywhere--in panels above the chair rail, in
screens and silver frames, on the writing-table, and loose and
unframed on the mantel-shelf. They were nearly all portraits of
women--and some nice attractive bits among them, as Dale thought;
young and cheeky ones, too, that he guessed were actresses and not
nieces or cousins. He smiled tolerantly. These photographs brought to
his mind a nearly forgotten fancy of his own, together with echoes of
the local gossip. Round Rodchurch the talk ran that the Right
Honorable gentleman was still a rare one for the ladies. "And why
not?" thought Dale. A childless old widower may keep up that sort of
game as long as he likes, or as long as he can, without wounding any
one's feeling. It wasn't as if her ladyship had been still alive.

"Sir, I hope I have not disturbed you; but I couldn't be easy till I'd
cordially and heartily thanked you." Mr. Barradine had come in, and
Dale fired off his brief set speeches. But instinct almost immediately
told him that once more Mavis had been right and he wrong. Mr.
Barradine was not expecting or desiring a personal call.

"Not worth mentioning. Nothing at all." He said these things
courteously, but there was a coldness in his tone that quite froze the
visitor. He seemed to be saying really: "Now look here, I have had
quite enough bother about you; and please don't let me have any more
of it."

"Then, sir, I thank you--and--er--that's all."

"Very glad if--" Mr. Barradine made the same gesture that Dale had
seen a few hours ago: a wave of the right hand. But to Dale it seemed
that it was different now, that it indicated languor and haughtiness