What's Bred in the Bone by Grant Allen
page 57 of 368 (15%)
page 57 of 368 (15%)
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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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