Gillian did not feel at all in a mood for cantrips as she slowly walked up the broad staircase, and was ushered into the dressing-room, cheerful with bright fire and April sunshine, and with a large comfortable sofa covered with a bright rug, where Kalliope could enjoy both window and fire without glare.  The beauty of her face so much depended on form and expression that her illness had not lessened it.  Gillian had scarcely seen her since the autumn, and the first feeling was what an air of rest and peace had succeeded the worn, harassed look then almost perpetual.  There was a calmness now that far better suited the noble forehead, dark pencilled eyebrows, and classical features in their clear paleness; and with a sort of reverence Gillian bent over her, to kiss her and give her a bunch of violets.  Then, when the thanks had passed, Gillian relieved her own shyness by exclaiming with admiration at a beautiful water-coloured copy of an early Italian fresco, combining the Nativity and Adoration of the Magi, that hung over the mantelpiece.

‘Is it not exquisite?’ returned Kalliope.  ’I do so much enjoy making out each head and dwelling on them!  Look at that old shepherd’s simple wonder and reverence, and the little child with the lamb, and the contrast with the Wise Man from the East, whose eyes look as if he saw so much by faith.’

‘Can you see it from there?’ asked Gillian, who had got up to look at these and further details dwelt on by Kalliope.

’Yes.  Not at first; but they come out on me by degrees.  It is such a pleasure, and so kind of Mr. White to have put it there.  He had it hung there, Mrs. Halfpenny told me, instead of his own picture just before I came in here.’

’Well, he is not a bad-looking man, but it is no harm to him or his portrait to say that this is better to look at!’

‘It quite does me good!  And see,’ pointing to a photograph of the Arch of Titus hung on the screen that shielded her from the door, ’he sends in a fresh one by Alexis every other day.

’How very nice!  He really seems to be a dear old man.  Don’t you think so?’

’I am sure he is wonderfully kind, but I have only seen him that once when he came with Sir Jasper, and then I knew nothing but that when Sir Jasper was come things must go right.’

’Of course; but has he never been to see you now that you are up and dressed?’

’No, he lavishes anything on me that I can possibly want, but I have only seen him once—–­never here.’

‘It is like Beauty and the Beast!’

‘Oh no, no ; don’t say that!’

’Well, George Stebbing really taught Fergus to call him a beast, and you—–­Kally—–­I won’t tease you with saying what you are.’

‘I wish I wasn’t, it would be all so much easier.’

’Never mind!  I do believe the Stebbings are going away!  Does Maura never see him?’

’She has met him on the stairs and in the garden, but she has her meals here.  I trust by the time her Easter holidays are over I may be fit to go back with her.  But I do hope I may be able to copy a bit of that picture first, though, any way, I can never forget it.’