"No," replied Celia. "I should like to do so. I should like to try to
thank him for his kindness to me."
Mrs. Dexter smiled.
"I don't think he would like that, my dear. Great people don't like
being thanked. At least, that's my experience," she repeated. "I will
show you his lordship's portrait, if you like," she said, as they passed
into the hall. "It is growing dark here; that painted window keeps out
the light."
She switched on the electric light, and directed Celia's attention to
the row of family portraits.
"I'll tell you who they all are some day," she said. "That is the
present Marquess, at the end there."
Celia went to it and looked at it with interest.
"He has a nice face," she said.
"Yes, it is a good-looking family, as you see," said Mrs. Dexter, with a
smile.
Celia's eyes wandered from the portrait of the Marquess to the one
hanging next to it. It was the picture of a young man dressed in riding
kit. He was a handsome lad, with a dare-devil look in his dark eyes, a
hint of wildness, of recklessness and defiance, in the carriage of his
head, the curve of his lips.
"That is a very beautiful picture," said Celia.
"Yes; it is one of the best in the gallery," said Mrs. Dexter. "It is
the portrait of the Marquess's brother--his elder brother. He was very
wild, and caused the family much trouble. He is dead, of course, or he
would have been the marquess instead of his present lordship."
"He is very handsome," said Celia. "I suppose that is why one feels so
sorry for him."
She moved away from the picture as she spoke; but presently, as if drawn
by it, she returned to it.
"The picture interests you?" said Mrs. Dexter, with a smile. "That is
always the way with us women, my dear. It is always the wild and wicked
men who attract us."
"Oh, but that's a libel, surely," said Celia. "No; I think you are
right. But how foolish of us, if it is true."
She turned away and went towards the great fireplace where the logs were
now burning; but after a moment or two, as she stood with her foot on
the fender, she looked again over her shoulder at the picture.
"It is very strange," she said, "but I have a curious feeling that I
have seen someone very like--no, not very like, but bearing a faint
likeness to that portrait."