The high backs of the chairs
were elaborately carved, the seats being of the same green velvet as
the settee. A high wire-guard surrounded the fire place, and this
unusual precaution made one think, that the contents of the room must
be precious. The occupant of this apartment might have been an artist,
a man of letters, or a virtuoso--probably the latter; but whatever he
was, it was evident that his study was a workshop, and not a showroom.
From the room Ideala looked to her companion. He was writing rapidly,
and seemed absorbed in his subject. He was frowning slightly, his face
was pale and set, and he looked older by ten years than when he had
spoken last, and seemed cold and unimpassioned as a judge; but Ideala
thought again that the face was a fine one.
Presently he became conscious of her earnest gaze. He did not look up,
but every feature softened, and a warm glow spread from forehead to
chin; it was as if a deep shadow had been lifted, and a younger, but
less noble, man revealed.
"How you change!" Ideala exclaimed--"not from day to day, but from
moment to moment.
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