Chapter 34

           NewlandArchersatatthewriting-tableinhislibraryinEastThirty-ninthStreet.HehadjustgotbackfromabigofficialreceptionfortheinaugurationofthenewgalleriesattheMetropolitanMuseum,andthespectacleofthosegreatspacescrowdedwiththespoilsoftheages,wherethethrongoffashioncirculatedthroughaseriesofscientificallycataloguedtreasures,hadsuddenlypressedonarustedspringofmemory."Why,thisusedtobeoneoftheoldCesnolarooms,"heheardsomeonesay;andinstantlyeverythingabouthimvanished,andhewassittingaloneonahardleatherdivanagainstaradiator,whileaslightfigureinalongsealskincloakmovedawaydownthemeagrely-fittedvistaoftheoldMuseum.Thevisionhadrousedahostofotherassociations,andhesatlookingwithneweyesatthelibrarywhich,foroverthirtyyears,hadbeenthesceneofhissolitarymusingsandofallthefamilyconfabulations.Itwastheroominwhichmostoftherealthingsofhislifehadhappened.Therehiswife,nearlytwenty-sixyearsago,hadbrokentohim,withablushingcircumlocutionthatwouldhavecausedtheyoungwomenofthenewgenerationtosmile,thenewsthatshewastohaveachild;andtheretheireldestboy,Dallas,toodelicatetobetakentochurchinmidwinter,hadbeenchristenedbytheiroldfriendtheBishopofNewYork,theamplemagnificentirreplaceableBishop,solongtheprideandornamentofhisdiocese.