There was here something in marble, something there Oriental, but nowhere were effects confused, and they had been subdued until consciousness of their art was not aroused.
Alice, sensitive to indefinable impressions, had never seen anything comparable to what she now saw, and an interior so restful should have put her at ease.
Yet the first pleasing breath in this atmosphere brought with it something, she could not have told what, of uneasiness, and it was of this that she was vaguely conscious, as Dolly questioned the servant that met them.
"Is Mr. De Castro here yet?" she asked.
"Yes, Mrs. De Castro. He is with Mr. Kimberly. I think they are in the garden."
"Tell them we are here. We will go up and speak to Uncle John."
They were at the foot of the stairs: "Sha'n't I wait for you?" suggested Alice.
"By no means. Come with me. He is really the head of the family, you know," Dolly added in an undertone, "and mustn't be slighted."
Alice, amused at the importance placed upon the situation, smiled at Dolly's earnestness. As she ascended the stairs with her hostess, a little wave of self-consciousness swept over her.
On the second floor was a long gallery opening at the farther end upon a western belvedere, lighted just then by the sun. The effect of the room, confusing at first in its arrangement, was, in fact, that of a wide and irregular reception hall for the apartments opening on the second floor. At the moment the two women reached the archway, a man walked in at the farther end from the terrace.