"Ah! Going to London?"
"Yes. I don't know how to thank you for all your kindness. You have made my summer something like a summer; very different, indeed, from what it would otherwise have been."
"We have had our share of advantage, and that a large one. We are all glad to have made your acquaintance, Mr. Percivale."
He made no answer.
"We shall be passing through London within a week or ten days in all probability. Perhaps you will allow us the pleasure of looking at some of your pictures then?"
His face flushed. What did the flush mean? It was not one of mere pleasure. There was confusion and perplexity in it. But he answered at once:
"I will show you them with pleasure. I fear, however, you will not care for them."
Would this fear account for his embarrassment? I hardly thought it would; but I could not for a moment imagine, with his fine form and countenance before me, that he had any serious reason for shrinking from a visit.
He began to search for a card.
"O, I have your address. I shall be sure to pay you a visit. But you will dine with us to-day, of course?" I said.