"It is ready, sir."
"And breakfast!"
"Whenever you please, sir."
He took off his dust-smothered travelling-coat, and was about to fling it on the couch, when he saw lying there two pieces of some brilliant stuff that were strange to him.
"What are these things?"
"They were left, sir, by Mr. ——, of Bond Street, on approval. He will call this afternoon."
"Tell him to go to the devil!" said Brand, briefly, as he walked off into his bedroom.
Presently he came back.
"Stay a bit," said he; and he took up the two long strips of silk-embroidered stuff—Florentine work, probably, of about the end of the sixteenth century. The ground was a delicate yellowish-gray, with an initial letter worked in various colors over it. Mr. ——, of Bond Street, knew that Brand had often amused his idle hours abroad in picking up things like
this, chiefly as presents to lady friends, and no doubt thought they would be welcome enough, even for bachelors' rooms.