"Thirty or forty years. Everything allowed to go to rack and ruin. By Jove, sir, your people must have built well, and furnished well, for things to look as they do. Well, they shall stay as they are while I am here; I'll keep the wind and the rain out of the old house, but I can do no more, and I wouldn't if I could. And when I'm gone, Croft, or whoever is master then, must see to it." "Yes," said the young man, still looking round. "I'm glad you've left it as it used to be." "Just as your mother would remember it. Except, of course, one must make oneself comfortable," Mr. Hayes explained apologetically. "Just a chair for me, and a piano for Barbara, you see!" Reynold saw. There was a large eastern rug spread near the fire-place, and on it stood an easy-chair, and a little table laden with books. A shaded lamp cast its radiance on a freshly-cut page. By the fire was a low seat, which was evidently Barbara's. "That's the way to enjoy old furniture," said Mr. Hayes. "Sit on a modern chair and look at it--eh? There's an old piano in that further corner; that's very good to look at too." "But not to hear?" said Harding. "You may try it." "That's more than I may do," said Barbara, demurely. "You tried it too much--you tried me too much," Mr. Hayes made answer. "You did not begin in a fair spirit of investigation. You were determined to find music in it." The girl laughed and looked down. "And I did," she murmured to herself. "Ah, you are looking at the portraits," Mr. Hayes went on. "There are better ones than the two or three we have here. I believe your Uncle John took away a few when he left. Your grandmother used to hang over there by the fire-place. The one on the other side is good, I think--Anthony Rothwell. You must come a little more this way to look at it." Harding followed obediently, and made various attempts to find the right position, but the picture was not placed so as to receive the full firelight, and being above the lamp it remained in shadow. "Stay," said the old gentleman, "I'll light this candle." He struck a match as he spoke, and the sudden illumination revealed a scornful face, and almost seemed to give it a momentary expression, as if Anthony, of Mitchelhurst Place, recognised Reynold of nowhere. The younger man eyed the portrait coldly and deliberately. "Well," he said, "Mr. Anthony Rothwell, my grandfather, I suppose?" "Great-grandfather," Mr. Hayes corrected. "Oh, you are well acquainted with the family history. Well, then, I should say that my great-grandfather was remarkably handsome, but----" "If it comes to that you are uncommonly like him," said his host, with a little chuckle, as he looked from the painted face to the living one, and back again. Reynold started and drew back. "Oh, thank you!" he said, with a short laugh. If he had been permitted to continue his first remark, he would have said, "but as unpleasant-tempered a gentleman as you could find in a day's journey."