it when I come back"--and when she came back
it was invariably to rush off somewhere else. So he had remained without
a key to her transitions, and had had to take for granted numberless
things that seemed to have no parallel in the experience of the other
boys he knew.

"Here--here it is," said Mrs. Heeny, adjusting the big tortoiseshell
spectacles she had taken to wearing, and reading out in a slow chant
that seemed to Paul to come out of some lost remoteness of his infancy.

"'It is reported in London that the price paid by Mr. Elmer Moffatt for
the celebrated Grey Boy is the largest sum ever given for a Vandyck.
Since Mr. Moffatt began to buy extensively it is estimated in art
circles that values have gone up at least seventy-five per cent.'"

But the price of the Grey Boy did not interest Paul, and he said a
little impatiently: "I'd rather hear about my mother."

"To be sure you would! You wait now." Mrs. Heeny made another dive, and
again began to spread her clippings on her lap like cards on a big black
table.

"Here's one about her last portrait--no, here's a better one about
her pearl necklace, the one Mr. Moffatt gave her last Christmas. 'The
necklace, which was formerly the property of an Austrian Archduchess, is
composed of five hundred perfectly matched pearls that took thirty years
to collect. It is estimated among dealers in precious stones that since
Mr. Moffatt began to buy the price of pearls has gone up over fifty per
cent.'"

Even this did not fix Paul's attention. He wanted to hear about his
mother and Mr. Moffatt, and not about their things; and he didn't quite
know how to frame his question. But Mrs. Heeny looked kindly at him and
he tried. "Why is mother married to Mr. Moffatt now?"

"Why, you must know that much, Paul." Mrs. Heeny again looked warm and
worried. "She's married to him because she got a divorce--that's why."
And suddenly she had another inspiration. "Didn't she ever send you
over any of those splendid clippings that came out the time they were
married? Why, I declare, that's a shame; but I must have some of 'em
right here."

She dived again, shuffled, sorted, and pulled out a long discoloured
strip. "I've carried this round with me ever since, and so many's wanted
to read it, it's all torn." She smoothed out the paper and began:

"'Divorce and remarriage of Mrs. Undine Spragg-de Chelles. American
Marquise renounces ancient French title to wed Railroad King. Quick work
u