pictures. One a gorgeously coloured print of the lamented Queen Victoria
in a deep gold frame, and the other a representation of an entrancing
allegorical theme entitled "The Two Paths," illustrating the ascent of
the saint into heaven and the descent of the sinner into hell. At the
top of this picture was the legend, "Which will you choose?"--implying a
possible but regrettable lack of taste on the part of the chooser.

Into this abode of the arts and muses came Callandar, alert and smiling.
It was hardly his fault that he stumbled over the visitor who, whether
in awe or fear of these unveiled splendours, had retreated as far as
possible toward the door.

"Don't mind me!" said the visitor meekly.

"Willits! by Jove, I thought it would be you! Say, would you mind not
sitting on that chair? It's just glued!"

The visitor arose with conspicuous alacrity. He was a tall man with a
domelike head, piercing eyes and formidable nose. Ann's description had
been terribly accurate. He observed the tail of his coat carefully and
finding no damage, seemed relieved.

"Sit here," said Callandar affably. "And don't expect me to make you
welcome, because you aren't. What misfortunate chance has brought you
to Coombe?"

"Neither fortune nor chance had anything at all to do with it," declared
the visitor. "I followed your luggage. I wanted to see you."

"Well, take a good look."