oil painting artist

St. John arrived first. I had entreated him to keep quite clear
of the house till everything was arranged: and, indeed, the bare
idea of the commotion, at once sordid and trivial, going on within its
walls sufficed to scare him to estrangement. He found me in the
kitchen, watching the progress of certain cakes for tea, then
baking. Approaching the hearth, he asked, 'If I was at last
satisfied with housemaid's work?' I answered by inviting him to
accompany me on a general inspection of the result of my labours. With
some difficulty, I got him to make the tour of the house. He just
looked in at the doors I opened; and when he had wandered upstairs and
downstairs, he said I must have gone through a great deal of fatigue
and trouble to have effected such considerable changes in so short a
time: but not a syllable did he utter indicating pleasure in the
improved aspect of his abode.
This silence damped me. I thought perhaps the alterations had
disturbed some old associations he valued. I inquired whether this was
the case: no doubt in a somewhat crestfallen tone.
'Not at all; he had, on the contrary, remarked that I had