the matter. Is it in habitable repair?"

"It seems so. Do your best to have the purchase completed as soon as
possible, dear Mr. Newton. I want to start my modiste in good time to
catch the home-coming people."

"Believe me, it is an unwise project," said Newton, thoughtfully.

"I know you think so, and you are right to counsel me according to your
conscience; but as I am quite determined, you must not let me go to a
stranger for help."

"Very well; give me the address."

"Seven Malden Street, Paddington. Bell & Co., house agents, in Harrow
Road, have it on their books."

"Good! I'll get a surveyor to see to sanitary arrangements, etc. Now
that, as usual, you have conquered again and again, tell me something of
yourself. Are you tired of the little nephews yet?"

"No, indeed. I have been happier with them than I dared hope to be when
I was left alone nearly a year ago, yet"--Her voice faltered and her
soft dark eyes filled.

"Yes, yes," hastily, with a man's dread of tears; "you couldn't get over
that all at once. But you know it is a very Quixotic business taking
those boys; and Mrs. Ormonde is not the woman to relieve you should any
difficulty arise."

"But when boys are well provided for there never can be a difficulty.
Ah, Mr. Newton, what a wonderful magician money is! What would become of
me without it? It is almost worth risking anything to get it."

"Or, apparently, to get rid of it," remarked Mr. Newton. "By-the-way,
that was a tremendous smash of Errington's. Did you hear anything about
him?"

"Yes," rather faintly.

"The reason I mention him is that, curiously enough, _he_ was the man
your uncle left everything to in that will he very fortunately
destroyed. Of course I should only mention it to you: though now all is
passed and gone, it is of no importance. He has behaved very well. I am
told he has turned to literature. It's a pity he did not follow his
profession; but it would be rather late in the day for that. I think you
must find these rooms rather stuffy and warm after the sea-breezes, for
you are looking pale and fagged again."

"I feel a headache coming on," said Katherine, pulling herself together.
"I hope you will pay me a visit someday. I should like to show you my
dear little Charlie. He has a great look of my mother, especially his
eyes; they are _just_ like hers."

"If you will allow me to come some Sunday----"

"Certainly. You will sympathise with Miss Payne. She shares your