“Portraits are always the same; that picture may have been painted ages ago. Always veiled is it? That seems very mysterious, does it not?”
“It does; and I am just dying to know what the mystery is. If you should happen to find out, and it’s no secret, would you mind telling me?”
At this point Herr Geist appeared, whereupon Mrs. Tomlinson, with true feminine tact, changed the subject without waiting for a reply.
During the time I was laid up Mr. Fortescue came into my room almost every day, but never stayed more than a few minutes. When I expressed my sense of his kindness and talked about going home, he would smile gravely, and say:
“Patience! You must be my guest until you have the full use of your limbs and are able to go about without help.”
After this I protested no more, for there was an indescribable something about Mr. Fortescue which would have made it difficult to contradict him, even had I been disposed to take so ungrateful and ungracious a part.
At length, after a weary interval of inaction and pain, came a time when I could get up and move about without discomfort, and one fine frosty day, which seemed the brightest of my life, Geist and Ramon helped me down-stairs and led me into a pretty little morning-room, opening into one of the conservatories, where the plants and flowers had been so arranged as to look like a sort of tropical forest, in the midst of which was an aviary filled with parrots, cockatoos, and other birds of brilliant plumage.
Geist brought me an easy-chair, Ramon a box of cigarettes and the “Times,” and I was just settling down to a comfortable read and smoke, when Mr. Fortescue entered from the conservatory. He wore a Norfolk jacket and a broad-brimmed hat, and his step was so elastic, and his bearing so upright, and he seemed so strong and vigorous withal, that I began to think that in estimating his age at sixty I had made a mistake. He looked more like fifty or fifty-five.
“I am glad to see you down-stairs,” he said, helping himself to a cigarette. “How do you feel?”
“Very much better, thank you, and to-morrow or the next day I must really—”