The floor was covered with a thick carpet and eight small chairs were
placed close to the railing. The tapestry was very old and thin and,
by putting one's face close to it, the room below was rather dimly, yet
quite sufficiently, visible. Its dimensions were unusually
ample--possibly forty feet by sixty--and its furnishings most gorgeous.
The chandelier and side-lights were burning, and a huge vase lamp, pink
shaded, was on the large table in the centre. At the moment, the room
was untenanted.
In a little while a door opposite the Gallery opened and Madeline
Spencer entered.
A woman usually knows her good points physically and how to bring them
out. And Mrs. Spencer was an adept in the art--though, in truth,
little art was needed. To her, Nature had been over generous.
She affected black; and that was her gown, now--cut daringly low and
without a jot of color about it, save the dead white of her arms and
shoulders, and a huge bunch of violets at her waist.
I thought I could guess whence the flowers came. And, though I
despised her, yet, I could but admit her dazzling beauty.
She moved slowly about the room, touching an ornament here, a picture
there.
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