till, I could put it with the others, and let it go to Warwick, and
then tell the man not to do anything with it--but what would Edward say?
Can you _imagine_ his allowing the picture to be taken down upon this
evidence?"

From an acquaintance with "Edward" extending over large tracts of years,
I was forced to admit that even my robust imagination could not reach so
far. "_Skittles!_" or "_Confounded cheek!_" would be his mildest reply
to such a request, even from the friend of his youth! I did not care to
think how much further his indignation might carry him!

But I felt so strongly that something outside myself had inspired the
message, with its accurate instructions, that at last I prevailed upon
Mrs Lyon to promise she would mention the matter to her husband, and
thus leave the responsibility of refusal with _him_.

She did so, and the refusal was all my fancy had painted--and more!

Several months passed, and the following spring I was once more in the
neighbourhood, staying with my own relations this time, who were related
also to the Squire and his wife.

The first piece of news I received at dinner the night of my arrival was
that the Greba Hall picture _had been sent in to Warwick!_

I could hardly believe my ears. My relatives could tell me nothing
beyond the fact, and advised my paying an early visit to Greba Hall
during the absence of the master.

I did this, and Mrs Lyon told me all she knew about the matter, which
was not very much.

"After you were here last," she said, "I spoke to Edward as I promised,
and, of course, he laughed the whole thing to scorn, and was very rude
about our tomfoolery."

"Yes, I know all about that," I answered hastily. "But what happened
_afterwards_--after I left Warwickshire, I mean?"

"That was the queerest part of it all," she resumed. "A few days after
you had gone away he stood under the picture one evening, coming in from
hunting and waiting for tea in the hall, and said as he looked up at old
Richard Lyon:

"'Do you suppose I should allow _your_ picture to be taken down--_you_
who did so much for my property? Of course not!'"

"This happened once or twice, at intervals. Then he _said_ nothing, but
I used to notice that he always looked up at the picture whenever he
came into the hall or stood by the fireplace. At last, about three
months ago, he turned round suddenly, and said:

"'When are you going to send those pictures to be cleaned?' Now you know
I h