"What are you doing, sir?"
Verty turned quickly; Mr. Rushton stood before him—gloomy, forbidding, with a heavy frown upon his brow.
"What are you prying into?" repeated the lawyer, angrily; "are you not aware, sir, that this is my private apartment? What has induced you to presume in such a manner?"
Verty was almost terrified by the sternness of these cold words, and looked down. Then conscious of the innocence of his action, raised his eyes, and said:
"I came in to give you the copy of the deed, sir,—and saw the curtain—and thought I would—"
"Pry into my secrets," said Mr. Rushton; "very well, sir!"
"I did not mean to pry," said Verty, proudly; "I did not think there was any harm in such a little thing. I hope, sir, you will not think I meant anything wrong," added Verty—"indeed I did not; and I only thought this was some common picture, with a curtain over it to keep off the dust."
But the lawyer, with a sudden change of manner, had turned his eyes to the portrait; and did not seem to hear the exclamation.
"I hope you will not think hard of me, Mr. Rushton," said Verty; "you have been very good to me, and I would not do anything to offend you or give you pain."
No answer was vouchsafed to this speech either. The rough lawyer, with more and more change in his expression, was gazing at the fresh portrait, the curtain of which Verty had thrown over one of the upper corners of the frame.