The ceiling was surprisingly high for an attic and the walls were covered with pictures that he had painted, many of them copies of the famous Masters.
Having explored the studio, Lela ran excitedly downstairs to thank her aunt for saying that she could use it.
She found the Baroness looking rather pale and with deep lines under her eyes.
“How do you feel, Aunt Edith?” she asked.
“I had a bad night, my dear.”
“It’s not my fault, I hope?”
“The excitement of your coming here may have had something to do with it,” her aunt admitted, “but I am, I am afraid, a very ill woman.”
Lela sat down beside the bed.
“I feel very ashamed I have not asked you about it before, but I did not realise that you are – so seriously ill.”
“I have a growth in my inside and, although the doctors wish to cho
