"And he must have posted it before midnight, too," said Angelo, "or it would not have arrived here by the morning post. Strange things must have happened in those two hours to change the current of his life."
Shortly afterwards he rose, saying with a smile, "Art is long, and time is fleeting."
"Il Divino cannot leave his easel, you see," remarked my uncle, after the departure of the artist, "not even for one day."
"Il Divino? Who's he?" I returned stupidly.
"Is that his _nom--de--de_--brush?" I couldn't think of the French word, so I used the English one instead.
"It's a nickname his enemies have given him by antiphrasis, because he's so unlike Raphael."
"Can't leave his easel," I said, repeating my uncle's words. "Do you mean to say he is going to work on a gloomy day like this? Why, he won't be able to see, let alone paint."
"_Nulla dies sine lineâ_, you know. He lives in his studio, and can hardly be persuaded to leave it. It's a marvel he remained here so long this morning. He's dying to make a name."
"Can't say, I'm sure. It will not be for want of toil and study if he doesn't. He is occupied now on a great work which he fondly hopes will reverse the previous judgment of art-critics respecting his abilities."
"'The Fall of Cæsar' I think he calls it, or 'The Triumph of Cæsar,' or--or something of the sort. I know it's a classical subject."
I shall never forget the melancholy and gloom of that day as we sat, my uncle and I, in the darkening room, each occupied with his own thoughts. The non-return of my brother did not afford me the happiness I had expected, for it was counterbalanced by Daphne's exquisite grief, which was a source of real pain to me. Having wished so earnestly that the marriage might not come off, I felt as if I were in some way responsible for my brother's non-appearance.
Next day I took an early train for Dover, with the intention of calling at the strange house, and of questioning its silver-haired occupant, who, I was now inclined to believe, knew more of the mystery than he had cared to reveal. Not till I had reached the Kentish sea-town was it suddenly forced upon me that in my haste and excitement I had forgotten to note the name of the street in which the strange house was situated; nor did I even know which way to turn on leaving the station.