d
better go."

The room was nearly empty when McAllister passed before his friend's
picture again, after a satisfactory interview with a gentleman from
Bond Street on the subject of one of his own. McAllister, whose
criticism Mrs. Sylvester had overheard and reported, had recently
been elected Associate, owing the honour, according to some
malicious people, more to his nationality than to his merit as a
painter of cattle and landscapes. The _Outcry_, indeed, with reference
to this promotion, and the continued neglect of older artists of
greater public repute, had suggested, with its usual impertinence,
that the motto of _Lasciate ogni speranza_, which was reported in
certain circles to be almost visibly inscribed over the door of the
Academicians' Committee-room, should be supplemented by the legend,
"No English need apply."

"It's good," he said reflectively, as he stopped in front of the
picture, with something like a chuckle on his lips, and a twinkle in
his shrewd, gray eyes. "More than good. You can see the clever
French trick in every line of it, and they'll call it one of the
pictures of the year. So it is, though there are dozens in the
vaults downstairs worth two of it. But I thought this was Oswyn's
subject? He was always talking about it. Well, I should like to see
what he would have made of it!"

CHAPTER XVIII

As the clock struck five Rainham looked up with an air of relief,
flipping negligently across the table the heap of papers which had
occupied him since lunch-time.

"We must go into this some other time, Bullen," he remarked with a
certain petulance. "I confess things look rather bad; but I suppose
they can hold over till to-morrow?"

The foreman assented dubiously, gathering together the despised
sheets, and preparing for departure.

"I've done my best, sir," he said a little sullenly; "but it is
difficult for things to go smoothly when the master is always away;
and you never will take no notice of business letters, you know,
sir."

"Yes, yes," said Rainham wearily; "I am sure you have, Bullen. If I
go into the Bankruptcy Court, as you so frequently prophesy, it will
be entirely my own fault. In the meantime you might tell your wife
to send me up some tea--for two, Bullen, please. Mr. Oswyn will be
up presently."

The man retired, shutting the door with some ardour. Rainham rose,
and, with the little, expansive shrug with which he usually
discarded his commercial worries, wander