"Not so fine as that at Leyton Court, Lord Ferrers," he said, with a bow. "But I possess one picture which I value above all the others. I am so attached to it that it travels about with me; it is here, in my writing room. Would you care to see it? I think it will repay you for your trouble."
Blair rose at once.
"I should like to very much," he said.
The prince led the way to a small room on the same floor, and stood before a picture, closely curtained.
"You will want plenty of light," he said, turning up the gas as he spoke, "and if you will sit just there, Lord Ferrers, you will be in the most favorable position."
At the same time he himself took up his stand by the curtain, with his eyes fixed piercingly upon Blair's face.
"Now," he said, "I want you to tell me exactly how this picture strikes you at first sight. You shall examine it closely and criticise it afterward. I ought to tell you that it has made the artist famous."
As he spoke, still keeping his eyes fixed upon Blair's face, he drew the curtain. Blair had not felt much interest in the proceedings, and expected to see some piece of artistic trickery, and so leant back to take it at his ease; when suddenly, as if the veil of the past had been rent asunder, there sprung upon his sight the picture of his Margaret lying on the rocks at Appleford; the exact representation of her death as he had pictured it, alas! how often!
Trembling and almost beside himself, he had forgotten the presence of the prince, who, mute as himself, stood with folded arras regarding him with a stern look.
"Does the picture please you, Lord Ferrers?" he said, and there was something ominous in his voice.