unate.

But the goddess seemed to have a natural propensity to retain any form
of portable property. One of her arms was so placed that, tug and
stretch as he would, Leander could not get the cloak from her shoulders,
and his efforts only broke one of the oxidized silver fastenings, and
tore part of the squirrel's-fur lining.

It was useless, and with a damp forehead he came down again to his
expectant _fiancee_.

"Why, you haven't got it, after all!" she cried, her face falling.

"Tillie, my own dear girl," he said, "I'm uncommon sorry, upon my soul I
am, but you can't have that cloak this evening."

"But why, Leander, why?"

"Because one of the clasps is broke. It must be sent back to be
repaired."

"I don't mind that. Let me have it just as it is."

"And the lining's torn. No, Matilda, I shan't make you a present of a
damaged article. I shall send it back. They must change it for me."
("Then," he thought, "I can buy my Matilda another.")

"I don't care for any other but that," she said; "and you can't match
it."

"Oh, lor!" he thought, "and she knows every inch of it. The goddess must
give it up; it'll be all the same to _her_. Very well then, dearest, you
_shall_ have that, but not till it's done up. I must have my way in
this; and as soon as ever I can, I'll bring it round."

"Leander, could you bring it me by Sunday," she said eagerly, "when you
come?"

"Why Sunday?" he asked.

"Because--oh, that was the message your aunt asked me to bring you; it
was in a note, but I've lost it. She told me what was inside though, and
it's this. Will you give her the pleasure of your company at her mid-day
dinner at two o'clock, to be introduced to mamma? And she said you were
to be sure and not forget her ring."

He tottered for a moment. The ring! Yes, there was that to be got off,
too, besides the cloak.

"Haven't you got the ring from Vidler's yet?" she said. "He's had it
such a time."

He had told her where he had left it for alterations. "Yes," he said,
"he has had it a time. It's disgraceful the way that old Vidler potters
and potters. I shall go round and 'urry him up. I won't stand it any
longer."

Here a customer came in, and Matilda slipped away with a hurried
good-bye.

"I've got till Sunday to get straight," the hairdresser thought, as he
attended on the new comer, "the best part of a week; surely I can talk
that Venus over by that time."

When he was alone he went up to see her, without lo