Next they went back to the studio, and, passing through its other door, came into a little corner drawing-room, which was completely flooded with rosy sunshine. Lilly clapped her hands in unbounded delight. There was a soft old-rose carpet with a vine pattern; a charming little crystal chandelier, the prisms of which set rainbow colours playing on the dark polished mahogany furniture; and bronze statuettes representing such subjects as a nymph bathing, a reaper folding his hands in prayer at the sound of the Angelus, and so on. Then there were a few choice paintings on the walls, an escritoire, a little bookcase, and there was even a piano. "Oh!" sighed Lilly, "a piano!" And she shut her eyes in sheer melancholy bliss at the thought of it. There were live things, too. In front of one of the three windows was an aquarium, full of sunlight and goldfish, with a palm overhead; and from another window chirruped a tame bullfinch. Lilly thought of her pale-blue silk domain. In comparison with that, what a plain, confined little nest this was; yet how inexpressibly attractive and cosy when contrasted with the revolting place in which she was dwelling. "It's a positive paradise!" she said ecstatically, though half crying. "Here is another room," said Herr Dehnicke, opening a door that Lilly had not noticed. "It can be entered separately from the hall, and was probably intended by the lady for a guest-chamber; but if you settled here, it would come in handy as a workroom for your assistants." Lilly peeped in. The room was more simply arranged than the others, but with considerable care. Greenish-grey upholstered chairs were set round a wide table, and in one corner was a comfortable-looking brass bedstead. "The bed, of course, could be taken away," Herr Dehnicke explained. It really was marvellous how exactly suited everything was to her requirements. They returned to the drawing-room, and Lilly noticed what had before escaped her attention, and that was an almost life-size portrait in an ornate frame hanging above the sofa, as if every other object in the room was there to pay it homage. The features and figure were, however, hidden by a covering of mauve stuff, which made it impossible to recognise them. "What does that mean?" Lilly asked. Dehnicke shrugged his shoulders and pointed to a photograph on the escritoire veiled in the same mysterious fashion. Lilly, full of curiosity, took hold of a corner of the drapery which screened the big picture from her view, and raised it a little. "I wonder if I dare?" she asked timidly, as if she were about to commit a crime. "Certainly, if you care to," he replied; and it seemed as if he were breathing more heavily than usual. She tugged, tugged energetically; the drapery fell upon her ... and there in front of her eyes stood Walter von Prell, boldly sketched in pastel, wearing the uniform of his old regiment. Walter--her friend and fiance!