Itwaslatesummer-time，andtheperfumeofflowersstoleintothedarkenedroomthroughthehalf-openedwindow。Thesunlightforceditswaythroughachinkintheblind，andstretchedacrossthefloorinstrangezigzagfashion。Fromwithoutcamethepleasantmurmurofbeesandmanylazierinsectsfloatingoverthegorgeousflowerbeds，restingforawhileontheclematiswhichhadmadethepiazzaablazeofpurplesplendour。Andinside，inahigh-backedchair，theresataman，hisarmsfolded，hiseyesfixedsteadilyuponvacancy。Ashesatthen，sohadhesatforawholedayandawholenight。Thefaintsweetchorusofgladlivingthings，whichalonebrokethedeepsilenceofthehouse，seemedneithertodisturbnorinteresthim。Hesattherelikeamanturnedtostone，hisforeheadrivenbyonedeepline，hisstraightfirmmouthsetcloseandhard。Hisservant，theonlylivingbeingwhohadapproachedhim，hadsetfoodbyhisside，whichnowandthenhehadmechanicallytaken。Changelessasasphinx，hehadsatthereindarknessandinlight，whilstsunlighthadchangedtomoonlight，andthesongsofthebirdshadgivenplacetothelowmurmuringoffrogsfromalakebelowthelawns。
　　Atlastitseemedthathisunnaturalfithadpassedaway。Hestretchedouthishandandstruckasilvergongwhichhadbeenleftwithinhisreach。Almostimmediatelyaman，pale-faced，withfulldarkeyesandolivecomplexion，dressedinthesombregarbofanindoorservant，stoodathiselbow。
　　“Duson。“
　　“YourGrace！“
　　“Bringwine-Burgundy。“
　　Itwasbeforehim，servedwithalmostincredibledespatch-asmallcobwebbedbottleandaglassofquaintshape，onwhichwerebeautifullyemblazonedacoronetandfleur-de-lis。Hedrankslowlyanddeliberately。Whenhesettheglassdownitwasempty。
　　“Duson！“
　　“YourGrace！“
　　“Youwillpackmythingsandyourown。WeshallleaveforNewYorkthisevening。TelegraphtotheHollandHouseforrooms。“
　　“Forhowmanydays，yourGrace？“
　　“Weshallnotreturnhere。Payoffalltheservantssavetwoofthemosttrustworthy，whowillremainascaretakers。“
　　Theman’sfacewasasimmovableashismaster’s。
　　“AndMadame？“
　　“Madamewillnotbereturning。Shewillhavenofurtheruseforhermaid。See，however，thatherclothesandallherpersonalbelongingsremainabsolutelyundisturbed。“
　　“HasyourGraceanyfurtherorders？“
　　“Takepencilandpaper。Sendthiscablegram。Areyouready？“
　　Theman’sheadmovedinrespectfulassent。
　　“ToFelix，“No27，RuedeSt。Pierre，“AvenuedeL’Opera，Paris。
　　“MeetmeatSherry’sRestaurant，NewYork，onemonthto-day，elevenp。m-V。S。“
　　“Itshallbesentimmediately，yourGrace。ThetrainforNewYorkleavesatseven-ten。Acarriagewillbehereinonehourandfiveminutes。“
　　Themanmovedtowardsthedoor。Hismasterlookedup。
　　“Duson！“
　　“YourGrace！“
　　“TheDucdeSouspennierremainshere-oratthebottomofthelake-whatmatters！ItisMr。SabinwhotravelstoNewYork，andforwhomyouengageroomsattheHollandHouse。Mr。SabinisacosmopolitanofEnglishproclivities。“
　　“Verygood，sir！“
　　“Lockthisdoor。Bringmycoatandhatfiveminutesbeforethecarriagestarts。Lettheservantsbewellpaid。Letnoneofthemattempttoseeme。“
　　Themanbowedanddisappeared。Lefttohimself，Mr。Sabinrosefromhischair，andpushingopenthewindows，stoodupontheverandah。
　　Heleanedheavilyuponhisstickwithbothhands，holdingitbeforehim。Slowlyhiseyestraveledoverthelandscape。
　　Itwasaverybeautifulhomewhichhewasleaving。Beforehimstretchedthegardens-Italianindesign，brilliantwithflowers，withhereandthereadarkcedar-treedroopinglowuponthelawn。
　　Ayewhedgeborderedtherose-garden，afountainwasplayinginthemiddleofalake。Awoodenfenceencircledthegrounds，andbeyondwasasmoothrollingpark，withlittlebeltsofpineplantationsandafewlargertreeshereandthere。Inthefardistancetheredflagwaswavingononeoftheputtinggreens。
　　ArchieGreenwasstrollingupthehillside，-hispipeinhismouth，andhisdriverunderhisarm。Mr。Sabinwatched，andthelinesinhisfacegrewdeeperanddeeper。
　　“Iamanoldman，“hesaidsoftly，“butIwilllivetoseethemsufferwhohavedonethisevilthing。“
　　Heturnedslowlybackintotheroom，andlimpingrathermorethanwasusualwithhim，hepushedasideaportiereandpassedintoacharminglyfurnishedcountrydrawing-room。Onlytheflowershungdeadintheirvases；everythingelsewasfreshandsweetanddainty。
　　SlowlyhethreadedhiswayamongsttheelegantLouisQuinzefurniture，examiningasthoughforthefirsttimethebeautifuloldtapestry，theSevreschina，theChippendaletable，whichwaspriceless，theexquisiteportraitspaintedbyGreuze，andthemysteriousgreentwilightsandgreydawnsofCorot。Everywheretreasuresofart，yeteverywheretherestraininghandoftheartist。
　　Thefaintsmellofdeadroseleaveshungabouttheroom。Alreadyoneseemedconsciousofacertainemptinessasthoughthegeniusoftheplacehadgone。Mr。Sabinleanedheavilyuponhisstick，andhisheaddroopedlowerandlower。Asoft，respectfulvoicecametohimfromtheotherroom。
　　“Infiveminutes，sir，thecarriagewillbeatthedoor。Ihaveyourcoatandhathere。“
　　Mr。Sabinlookedup。
　　“Iamquiteready，Duson！“hesaid。
　　Theservantsinthehallstoodrespectfullyasidetolethimpass。
　　Onthewaytothedepothesawnothingofthosewhosalutedhim。
　　Inthecarhesatwithfoldedarmsinthemostretiredseat，lookingsteadfastlyoutofthewindowatthedyingday。Thereweremountainsawaywestwards，touchedwithgoldenlight；sometimesforlongminutestogetherthetrainwasrushingthroughforestswhosedarknesswaslikethatofatunnel。Mr。Sabinseemedindifferenttothesechanges。Thecomingofnightdidnotdisturbhim。Hisbrainwasatwork，andthethingswhichhesawwerehiddenfromothermen。
　　Duson，withamurmurofapology，brokeinuponhismeditations。
　　“Youwillpardonme，sir，buttheseconddinnerisnowbeingserved。
　　Therestaurantcarwillbedetachedatthenextstop。“
　　“Whatofit？“Mr。Sabinaskedcalmly。
　　“Ihavetakenthelibertyoforderingdinnerforyou，sir。Itisthirtyhourssinceyouateanythingsavebiscuits。“
　　Mr。Sabinrosetohisfeet。
　　“Youarequiteright，Duson，“hesaid。“Iwilldine。“
　　Inhalf-an-hourhewasbackagain。Dusonplacedbeforehimsilentlyaboxofcigarettesandmatches。Mr。Sabinsmoked。
　　Soonthelightsofthegreatcityflaredinthesky，thetrainstoppedmorefrequently，theexpressmenandnewspaperboyscameintoevidence。Mr。Sabinawokefromhislongspellofthought。Heboughtanewspaper，andglancedthroughthelistofsteamerswhichhadsailedduringtheweek。Whenthetrainglidedintothedepothewasonhisfeetandreadytoleaveit。
　　“Youwillreserveourrooms，Duson，foronemonth，“hesaidonthewaytothehotel。WeshallprobablyleaveforEuropeamonthto-morrow。“
　　“Verygood，sir。“
　　“YouwereMrs。Peterson’sservant，Duson，beforeyouweremine！“
　　“Yes，sir。“
　　“Youhavebeenwithher，Ibelieve，formanyyears。Youaredoubtlessmuchattachedtoher！“
　　“IndeedIam，sir！“