Dinner was finished at Sandymere, Miss Challoner had gone out, and, in accordance with ancient custom, the cloth had been removed from the great mahogany table. Its glistening surface was broken only by a decanter, two choice wine-glasses, and a tall silver candlestick. Lighting a cigar, Blake looked about while he braced himself for the ordeal that must be faced.
He knew the big room well, but its air of solemnity, with which the heavy Georgian furniture was in keeping, impressed him. The ceiling had been decorated by a French artist of the eighteenth century, and the faded delicacy of the design, bearing as it did the stamp of its period, helped to give the place a look of age. Challoner could trace his descent much farther than his house and furniture suggested, but the family had firs
