And in front of it stood a glass with a rose, whose petals leaned over and just touched the canvas-- Mr Armstrong, feeling very guilty, beat a hasty retreat into the hot passage and made his way down-stairs.

He was a little jealous of that portrait, perched there in that cool room, with the sweet rose in front of it.
"Going out ?" said Captain Oliphant in the hall.

The Captain, by the way, had taken to being civil to his co-trustee, much to Mr Armstrong's annoyance, "Warm, isn't it ?" "Yes," said he.
"Beautiful day for those young people." "Beautiful," said the tutor.
As he spoke, he casually tapped the barometer at the hall-door, as was his habit.

To his surprise, the dial gave a great leap downward.
Something was wrong with it evidently, for the sky was as monotonously blue as it had been all day, and not a leaf stirred in the trees.
However, Mr Armstrong took the precaution to return to his own room for a moment to consult the barometer there.

It, too, answered him with a downward plunge.
The tutor screwed his glass rather excitedly into his eye, and looked at the clock.