“I may tell you, Julia,” said Augustus, in a half whisper, “that though I have given up hoping this many a day, it is just possible there may be something in these papers of moment to me, and I know I have only to say as much to secure your interest in them.”
“I believe you can rely upon that,” said she; and within less than five minutes afterwards she was seated at the table with Mr. Sedley in the study, an oblong box of oak clasped with brass in front of them, and a variety of papers lying scattered about.
“Have you got good eyes, Miss L'Estrange?” said Sedley, as he raised his spectacles, and turned a peering glance towards her.
“Good eyes?” repeated she, in some astonishment.
“Yes; I don't mean pretty eyes, or expressive eyes. I mean, have you keen sight?”
“I think I have.”
“That's what I need from you at this moment; here are some papers with erasures and re-writings, and corrections in many places, and it will take all your acuteness to distinguish between the several contexts. Aided by a little knowledge of Latin, I have myself discovered some passages of considerable interest. I was half the night over them; but with your help, I count on accomplishing more in half an hour.”
While he spoke he continued to arrange papers in little packets before him, and, last of all, took from the box a painter's palette and several brushes, along with two or three of those quaintly shaped knives men use in fresco-painting.
“Have you ever heard of the painter Giacomo Lami?” asked he.
“Of course I have. I know the whole story in which he figures. Mr. Bramleigh has told it to me.”