The duke drew her on as if to escape her thanks.
"You shan't be bothered with more rooms now," he said. "To-morrow you shall see it all. You must get acquainted with your own house, you know, as soon as possible."
As he spoke Yorke, who had walked beside them too moved for speech, stopped before the half opened door and pushed it open.
It was a plainly furnished room—very plainly, no silks or satins or inlaid furniture here, but an ordinary iron bedstead, and dressing table and washstand of plain deal.
"My room," said the duke simply.
Leslie stopped and peeped in, then she stood still, surprised and touched at its simplicity.
"Why have you given us all the beautiful things, and left none for yourself, duke?" she said reproachfully.
He laughed.
"Oh, I'm simple in my tastes," he said. "But I half thought of furnishing this room as a boudoir for you, there is such a pretty view. Come in!"
She went in and to the window, but she did not look at the view, for her eye was caught by a picture hanging on the wall at the foot of the bed.