"Is that sentiment your own?" said Dan, ignoring the question.
"No. It is Mr. Jarner's. But we can talk of this later on. Here is the picture-gallery."
It was a dreary-looking place; and Dan shuddered as he walked under the rows of frowning portraits. These were his ancestors--these men in armour, these stern-faced Puritans, these sad-looking ladies. Farbis Court and its desolation seemed to cast a shadow over all. He felt like a culprit under the menacing gaze of knight and dame.
"Upon my word, they are a melancholy lot!" said their graceless descendant. "I don't think they approve of my intrusion. I don't see a merry face among them."
"Sir Alurde is merry-faced."
"As I am his double, I am glad that he is. I should not care to wear such sour looks. Where is the gentleman?"
"You are standing close to him."
Dan turned with a start, as though he expected to find a ghost at his elbow, and beheld a picture of himself on the wall. The resemblance was very striking, and he wondered that Meg did not guess he was Lord Ardleigh, with such a proof before her.
"You might have sat for it," said Meg, looking from Sir Alurde to Dan.
"I am glad to hear you say so. I assure you I had no idea I was so good-looking."