s, and the moment his eye fell upon it now, his mind was made up.

But though so prompt and decided on this, the most important point,
there remained the question of the tie,--and how many ties were
selected, tried, and found wanting before the first, which had been
contemptuously discarded as lacking in dash and originality, was
reconsidered, and eventually decided upon, it boots not to say.

Val had taste; and left to himself was nearly sure to come forth
triumphant from an ordeal in which taste and a desire to be in the first
fashion struggled for the mastery. Crimson and green and blue were
famous colours, but a quiet beech-brown of a darker shade than the suit
finished it off so harmoniously that he sighed consent, and stuck in a
fox-head pin without further ado. Gloves, hat, and stick were below, and
equipped with these he presented himself before his grandmother.

"Any commands, ma'am?"

"Commands?" said Mrs. Purcell, absently. "Commands, my dear?"

She would not make the mistake of appearing to understand too soon; if
bothered, poor Val was so apt to tire of a subject, and turn rusty on
its reiteration.

"I thought I might as well see what turns up," rejoined he, vaguely,
"take the dogs for a run, you know; and as it's a nice morning, perhaps,
I may meet people. I have made myself decent"--and he looked down
complacently, and advanced within her line of vision.

"A new suit, Val? Turn round, and let me see you. Hum--quite nice. Are
you going to the post-office? I have run out of stamps."

"I _was_ going the other way, but--oh, I'll get them;" Val brightened.
"I'll get them at Sutley" (Sutley was the Bolderos' village)--"and if
any of those girls are about, I'll--I'll see what turns up."

"I shall know where you are if you don't come back for luncheon, then."

Now, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, an expedition planned on
such hazy outlines would have come to grief, but strange as it may seem,
no sooner did Mr. Valentine Purcell, swinging along at a high rate of
speed--for he always walked as though furies were at his heels--enter
the main street of Sutley village, than he espied a solitary, small,
black figure advancing from the other end, and almost ere he could
believe his eyes, Leonore herself was smiling into them. "Why, Val?"
exclaimed she, "I am so glad to see you, Val."

"Well, you might have seen me before now." Suddenly Val felt aggrieved;
it was a way he had; "I'm sure I've called ofte