Sir Philip gave his card to the old woman, and she carried it into the
adjoining chamber, whence there issued a gush of tobacco-smoke, as the
door between the two rooms was opened and then shut again.
In less than three minutes by the minute-hand of the only one of the
ormolu clocks which made any pretence of going, the door was opened
again, and a burly-looking, middle-aged gentleman, with a very black
beard, and a dirty holland blouse all smeared with smudges of
oil-colour, appeared upon the threshold of the adjoining chamber,
surrounded by a cloud of tobacco-smoke--like a heathen deity, or a
good-tempered-looking African genie newly escaped from his bottle.
This was Mr. Kerstall junior. He introduced himself to Sir Philip, and
waited to hear what that gentleman required of him.
Philip Jocelyn explained his business, and told the painter how, more
than five-and-thirty years before, the portrait of Henry Dunbar, only
son of Percival Dunbar the great banker, had been painted by Mr. Michael
Kerstall, at that time a fashionable artist.
"Five-and-thirty years ago!" said the painter, pulling thoughtfully at
his beard; "five-and-thirty years ago! that's a very long time, my lord,
and I'm afraid it's not likely my father will remember the circumstance;
for I regret to say that he is slow to remember the events of a few days
past.
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