So Pyecraft and Pyecraft's man came with their best camera, and photographed and photographed, as long as the fine weather lasted. They photographed the Market Square, Wyck-on-the-Hill; they photographed the church; they photographed Lower Wyck village and the Manor House, the residence--corrected to seat--of Mr. Horatio Bysshe Waddington, the author. They photographed the Tudor porch, showing the figures of the author and of Mrs. Waddington, his wife, and Miss Barbara Madden, his secretary. They photographed the author sitting in his garden; they photographed him in his park, mounted on his mare, Speedwell; and they photographed him in his motor-car. Then they came in and looked at the library and photographed that, with Mr. Waddington sitting in it at his writing-table. "I suppose, sir," Mr. Pyecraft said, "you'd wish it taken from one end to show the proportions?" "Certainly," said Mr. Waddington. And when Pyecraft came the next day with the proofs he said, "I think, sir, we've got the proportions very well." Mr. Waddington stared at the proofs, holding them in a hand that trembled slightly with emotion. With a just annoyance. For though Pyecraft had certainly got the proportions of the library, Mr. Waddington's head was reduced to a mere black spot in the far corner. If _that_ was what Pyecraft meant by proportion-- "I think," he said, "the--er--the figure is not quite satisfactory." "The--? I see, sir. I did not understand, sir, that you wished the figure." "We-ell--" Mr. Waddington didn't like to appear as having wished the figure so ardently as he did indeed wish it. "If I'm to be there at all--" "Quite so, sir. But if you wish the size of the library to be shown, I am afraid the figure must be sacrificed. We can't do you it both ways. But how would you think, sir, of being photographed yourself, somewhat larger, seated at your writing-table? We could do you that." "I hadn't thought of it, Pyecraft." As a matter of fact, he had thought of nothing else. He had the title of the picture in his mind: "The Author at Work in the Library, Lower Wyck Manor." Pyecraft waited in deference to Mr. Waddington's hesitation. His man, less delicate but more discerning, was already preparing to adjust the camera. Mr. Waddington turned, like a man torn between personal distaste and public duty, to Barbara. "What do _you_ think, Miss Madden?" "I think the book would hardly be complete without you." "Very well. You hear, Pyecraft, Miss Madden says I am to be photographed." "Very good, sir." He wheeled sportively. "Now how am I to sit?" "If you would set yourself so, sir. With your papers before you, spread careless, so. And your pen in your hand, so.... A little nearer, Bateman. The figure is important this time.... _Now_, sir, if you would be so good as to look up." Mr. Waddington looked up with a face of such extraordinary solemnity that Mr. Pyecraft smiled in spite of his deference.