His habits in his new home were soon formed, and once formed, they
varied not at all; for he admitted into his life nothing which took him
from the writing of his book.
On the afternoon following Hilary's dismissal of the little model,
being disappointed of his amanuensis, Mr. Stone had waited for an
hour, reading his pages over and over to himself. He had then done his
exercises. At the usual time for tea he had sat down, and, with his cup
and brown bread-and-butter alternately at his lips, had looked long and
fixedly at the place where the girl was wont to sit. Having finished,
he left the room and went about the house. He found no one but Miranda,
who, seated in the passage leading to the studio, was trying to keep
one eye on the absence of her master and the other on the absence of
her mistress. She joined Mr. Stone, maintaining a respect-compelling
interval behind him when he went before, and before him when he went
behind. When they had finished hunting, Mr. Stone went down to the
garden gate. Here Bianca found him presently motionless, without a hat,
in the full sun, craning his white head in the direction from which he
knew the little model habitually came. The mistress of the house was
herself returning from her annual visit to the Royal Academy, where she
still went, as dogs, from some perverted sense, will go and sniff round
other dogs to whom they have long taken a dislike.
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