The walls, painted gray, had
yielded a clean surface to the mop. The grate was blackened. On either
side of it stood the two large chairs, and Mary had thrown a strip of
bright stuff over the cushions of the Morris. Beside this chair stood the
smaller table, polished, and upon it blue and white tea things. Near the
large window stood the other table, with Stefan's palette, paint tubes,
and brushes in orderly array, and a plain chair beside it, while centered
at that end was the model-throne. Opposite the fireplace the divan
fronted the wall, obscured by Mary's steamer rug and green deck cushion.
At the end of the room the heavy chest of drawers, with its dark walnut
paint, faced the window, bearing the gilded mirror and a strip of
embroidery. On the mantlepiece stood Mary's traveling clock and the two
brass candlesticks, and above it Stefan's pastoral of the stream and the
dancing faun was tacked upon the wall. She could hear the kettle singing
from the closet, through the open door of which a shaft of sunlight fell
from the tiny window to the floor.
Suddenly Mary opened her arms. "Home," she whispered, "home." Tears
started to her eyes. With a caressing movement she leant her face against
the wall, as to the cheek of her lover.
But emotion lay deep in Mary--she was ashamed that it should rise to
facile tears.
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