THE BETTER SORT
for a decorative trifle, and you've produced a breathing masterpiece."
She thought. "Is that what she calls it?" Then, as having to think too, I hesitated, "What does she know?" she pursued.
"She knows she wants it."
"So much as that?"
At this I had to brace myself a little. "So much that she'll send me the cheque this afternoon, and that you'll have mine by the first post in the morning."
"Before she has even received the picture?"
"Oh, she'll send for it to-morrow." And as I was dining out and had still to dress, my time was up. Mary came with me to the door, where I repeated my assurance. "You shall receive my cheque by the first post." To which I added: "If it's little enough for a lady so much in need to pay for any husband, it isn't worth mentioning as the price of such a one as you've given her!"
I was in a hurry, but she held me. "Then you've felt your idea confirmed?"
"My idea?"
"That that's what I have given her?"
I suddenly fancied I had perhaps gone too far; but I had kept my cab and was already in it. "Well, put it," I called with excess of humour over the front, "that you've, at any rate, given him a wife!"
When on my return from dinner that night I let myself in, my first care, in my dusty studio, was to make light for another look at Mary's subject. I felt the impulse to bid him good night, but, to my astonishment, he was no longer there. His place was a void—he had already disappeared. I saw, however, after my first surprise, what had happened—saw it moreover, frankly, with some relief. As my servants were in bed I could ask no questions, but it was clear that Mrs. Bridgenorth, whose note, containing its
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