"It is the last we shall have to ourselves.Pity.But it can't be helped." Unconsciously he opened the door as he spoke, and Stafford said: "Is this your room, sir ?" "Yes; walk in, my boy," replied Sir Stephen.
Stafford walked in and stood stock-still with amazement.

The room was as plainly furnished as a servant's--more plainly, probably, than the servants who were housed under his roof.

Saving for a square of carpet by the bed and dressing-table the floor was bare; the bed was a common one of iron, narrow and without drapery, the furniture was of painted deal.

The only picture was a portrait of Stafford enlarged from a photograph, and it hung over the mantel-piece so that Sir Stephen could see it from the bed.

Of course neither Stafford nor Howard made any remark.
"Remember that portrait, Stafford ?" asked Sir Stephen, with a smile.