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What's Bred in the Bone by Grant Allen
page 57 of 368 (15%)
later, Miss Clifford's here, and then he'll come round this way to
speak to her."

For some time they stood talking in a little group by the bench,
Colonel Kelmscott meanwhile thawing by degrees and growing gradually
interested in what Guy had to say, while Elma looked on with a
devouring curiosity.

"Your brother's a painter, you say," the Colonel murmured once
under that heavy white moustache of his; "yes, I think I remember.
A rising painter. Had a capital landscape in the Grosvenor last
year, I recollect, and another in the Academy this spring, if
I don't mistake--skied--skied, unfairly; yet a very pretty thing,
too; 'At the Home of the Curlews.'"

"He's painting a sweet one now," Elma put in quickly, "down here,
close by, in Chetwood Forest. 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
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