"I really can't help it," declared the young man, turning his back
to the picture. "If I am rude, you must excuse it. I'm not very
strong--my mother will tell you I get put out very easily,--and I
shall dream of this horrid face all night if I don't give it a
wide berth."

And, without any further remark he stepped out through the open
window into the garden, and walked off. Gervase made no comment on
his departure; he turned his eyes towards Dr. Dean who, with
spectacles on nose, was staring hard at the picture with every
sign of the deepest interest.

"Well, Doctor," he said, "you see it is not at all like the
Princess."

"Oh, yes it is!" returned the Doctor placidly. "If you could
imagine the Princess's face in torture, it would be like her. It
is the kind of expression she might wear if she suddenly met with
a violent end."

"But why should I paint her so?" demanded Gervase. "She was
perfectly tranquil; and her attitude was most picturesquely
composed. I sketched her as I thought I saw her,--how did this
tortured head come on my canvas?"

The Doctor scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was certainly a
problem. He stared hard at Gervase, as though searching for the
clue to the mystery in the handsome artist's own face. Then he
turned to Denzil Murray, who had not stirred or spoken.