Beside the card he placed a large old-fashioned dinner bell,
and then led the way to the rear of the shop.

Behind the little office in which this unusual merchant had been
studying his cook-book a narrow stairway rose on each side,
running up to the gallery. Behind these stairs a short flight
of steps led to the domestic recesses. The visitor found
himself ushered into a small room on the left, where a grate
of coals glowed under a dingy mantelpiece of yellowish marble.
On the mantel stood a row of blackened corn-cob pipes and a canister
of tobacco. Above was a startling canvas in emphatic oils,
representing a large blue wagon drawn by a stout white animal--
evidently a horse. A background of lush scenery enhanced the forceful
technique of the limner. The walls were stuffed with books.
Two shabby, comfortable chairs were drawn up to the iron fender,
and a mustard-coloured terrier was lying so close to the glow that a
smell of singed hair was sensible.

"There," said the host; "this is my cabinet, my chapel of ease.
Take off your coat and sit down."

"Really," began Gilbert, "I'm afraid this is----"

"Nonsense! Now you sit down and commend your soul to Providence
and the kitchen stove. I'll bustle round and get supper."
Gilbert pulled out his pipe, and with a sense of elation prepared
to enjoy an unusual evening. He was a young man of agreeable parts,
amiable and sensitive. He knew his disadvantages in literary
conversation, for he had gone to an excellent college where glee
clubs and theatricals had left him little time for reading.