that sofa?" The speaker tried it--"Hm--not exactly Sybaritic--but very
fair, very fair! Mrs. Melrose will get used to it."

"Mrs. Melrose, sir, I fear, will find this place a bit lonesome, and out
of the way."

"Well, it is not exactly Piccadilly," laughed Melrose. "But a woman that
has her child is provided for. How can she be dull? I ask you"--he
repeated in a louder and rather hectoring voice--"how can she possibly be
dull?"

Tyson murmured something inaudible, adding to it--"And you, sir? Are you
a sportsman?"

Melrose threw up his hands contemptuously. "The usual British question!
What barbarians we are! It may no doubt seem to you extraordinary--but I
really never want to kill anything--except sometimes, perhaps,--a dealer.
My amusements"--he pointed to two large cases at the end of the
room--"are pursued indoors."

"You will arrange your collections?"

"Perhaps, yes--perhaps, no. When I want something to do, I may begin
unpacking. But I shall be in no hurry. Any way it would take me months."

"Is it mostly furniture you have sent home, sir?"

"Oh, Lord, no! Clocks, watches, ironwork, china, stuffs,
brasses--something of everything. A few pictures--no great shakes--as
yet. But some day I may begin to buy them in earnest. Meanwhile,