Ancestral portraits looked down from the walls. At one end of the room, in a screened balcony behind great fronds of mammoth ferns, musicians[Pg 11] were preparing to play, arranging music, speaking in low tones. [Pg 11] The footfalls of the servants were inaudible as they came and went over the deep pile of ancient rugs. A deep-throated chime from a tall old clock in the hall called out the hour, and a bell somewhere in the distance rang sharply, imperatively. A maid came noiselessly down the stairs and paused beside the library door, tapping gently. “Mr. Van Rensselaer, Mrs. Van Rensselaer would like to see you at once if you’re not busy.” The wistful look in the master’s eyes changed at the summons into his habitual belligerence, and he rose with a sigh of impatience. He mounted the stairs like one going to a familiar stake. Mrs. Van Rensselaer sat at her dressing-table fresh from the hands of her maid, a perfectly groomed woman in the prime of her life. Not a wrinkle marred the loveliness of her complexion, not a line of tenderness, or suffering, or self-abnegation gave character to her exquisite features. She had been considered the most beautiful woman of the day when Charles Van Rensselaer married her, and she still retained her beauty. No one, not even her bitterest enemy, could say that she had aged or faded. Her face and her figure were her first concern. She never let anything come between her and her ambition to remain young and lovely. If her meaningless beauty had long since palled upon the man who had worked hard in his younger days to win her hand, he nevertheless yielded her the court which she demanded; and if there was sometimes[Pg 12] a note of mock ceremony in his voice it was well guarded. [Pg 12] He stood in the violet shadow of her silken-shrouded lamp and watched her with a bitter sadness in his eyes. It was a moment when they might have met on common ground and drawn nearer to one another if she had but sensed it. But she was busy trying the effect of different earrings against her pearly tinted neck. Should it be the new rock crystals or the jade, or should she wear the Van Rensselaer emeralds after all? She turned at last, as if just aware that he had come
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