Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. "To go a little further. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. His advice was mostly practical. Burn your palette and your easel. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. " "Mr.
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