udied before, with an intense and ignorant interest on the one
hand, and an entire absence of mind on the other.

Charles, who had done a good deal of pacing up and down his room the
night before, and had arrived at certain conclusions, passed through the
gallery once, but did not stop. He looked grave and preoccupied, and
hardly answered a question of Mr. Conway's about one of the pictures.

Half-past eleven at last. A tall inlaid clock in the gallery mentioned
the hour by one sedate stroke; the church clock told the village the
time of day a second later. They had nearly finished the pictures. Never
mind. She could take half an hour to put on her hat, and surely any
beech-avenue, even on a dull day like this might serve to while away the
remaining hour before luncheon.

They had come to the last picture of the Danvers collection, and Ruth
was dwelling fondly on a very well-developed cow by Cuyp, as if she
could hardly tear herself away from it, when she heard a step coming up
the staircase from the hall, and presently Charles pushed open the
carved folding-doors which shut off the gallery from the rest of the
house, and looked in. She was conscious that he was standing in the
door-way, but new beauties in the cow, which had hitherto escaped her,
engaged her whole attention at the moment, and no one can attend to two
things at once.

Charles did not come any farther; but, standing in the door-way, he
called to the shy man who went to him, and the two talked together for a
few moments. Ruth gazed upon the cow until it became so fixed upon the
retina of her eye that, when she tried to admire an old Florentine
cabinet near it, she still saw its portrait; and when, in desperation,
she turned away to look out of the window across the sky and sloping
park, the shadow of the cow hung like a portent.

A moment later Mr. Conway came hurrying back to her much perturbed, to
say he had quite forgotten till this moment, had not in the least
understood, in fact, etc. Danvers' gray cob, that he had thoughts of
buying, was waiting at the door for him to try--in fact, had been
waiting some time. No idea, upon his soul--

Ruth cut his apology short before he had done more than flounder well
into it.

"You must go and try it at once," she said with decision; and then she
added, as Charles drew near: "I have changed my mind about going out. It
looks as if it might turn to rain. I shall get through some arrears of
letter-writing in