table over there--people rather admire the inlaid
work on it, and the devices inside are endless. However, we will make
out a list of these things afterward. Will you drive me down to the
village now? I want you to see my pensioners."
"All right--if you like," Lord Evelyn said; though his heart was not in
the work.
He walked out of this little room and made his way to the front-door,
fancying that Brand would immediately follow. But Brand returned to that
room, and opened the case of miniatures. Then he took from his pocket a
little parcel, and unrolled it: it was a portrait of Natalie--a
photograph on porcelain, most delicately colored, and surrounded with an
antique silver frame. He gazed for a minute or two at the beautiful
face, and somehow the eyes seemed sad to him. Then he placed the little
portrait--which itself looked like a miniature--next the miniature of
his mother, and shut the case and locked it.
"I beg your pardon, Evelyn, for keeping you waiting," he said, at the
front-door. "Will you particularly remember this--that none of the
portraits here are to be disturbed on any account whatever?"
CHAPTER XLVII.
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