Amaryllis' face became a dark red. The rushing blood seemed to stifle her. She could have cried out aloud; her pride only checked her utterance.
Raleigh, not noticing the deep colour in her face, led on upstairs, down the corridors, and into the first saloon. There he paused and old Iden took the lead, going straight to a fine specimen of an old Master.
Holding his great grey hat (which he would not give up to the butler) at arm's-length and pointing, the old man began to show Amaryllis the beauties of the picture.
"A grand thing—look," said he.
"I can't see," said Amaryllis, forced to reply.
"Not see!" said Iden, in a doubtful tone.
"Not a good light, perhaps," said Raleigh. "Come this side."
She did not move.
"Go that side," said Iden.
No movement.