He told me about it; it must be
simply lovely--all fern and mosses, with, oh! such a beautiful big
snake in the foreground."
"I should like to see it," Colonel Kelmscott said slowly, not without
a pang. "If it's painted in the forest--and by your brother, Mr.
Waring--that would give it, to me, a certain personal value." He
paused a moment; then he added, in a little explanatory undertone,
"I'm lord of the manor, you know, at Chetwood; and I shoot the
forest."
"Cyril would be delighted to let you see the piece when it's finished,"
Guy answered lightly. "If you're ever up in town our way--we've rooms
in Staple Inn. I dare say you know it--that quaint, old-fashioned
looking place, with big lattice windows, that overhangs Holborn."
Colonel Kelmscott started, and drew himself up still taller and
stiffer than before.
"I may have some opportunity of seeing it some day in one of the
galleries," he answered coldly, as if not to commit himself. "To
tell you the truth, I seldom have time to lounge about in studios.
It was merely the coincidence of the picture being painted in
Chetwood Forest that made me fancy for a moment I might like to
see it. But I'm no connoisseur. Mrs. Clifford, may I take you to
get a cup of tea? Tea, I think, is laid out in the tent behind the
shrubbery.
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