. What
was the name again? Drayton? Potter? Painter--either a P or a D, I
feel sure." He turned over the leaves quickly. "Yes, here it is.
Poynter. Lot 486. That might interest you. There are the books, I
think: out on the table. Some one has been looking at them. Well, I
must be getting on. Good-bye, you'll look us up, won't you? Couldn't
you come this afternoon? We've got a little music about four. Well,
then, when you're next in town." He went off. Mr. Denton looked at his
watch and found to his confusion that he could spare no more than a
moment before retrieving his luggage and going for the train. The
moment was just enough to show him that there were four largish
volumes of the diary--that it concerned the years about 1710, and that
there seemed to be a good many insertions in it of various kinds. It
seemed quite worth while to leave a commission of five and twenty
pounds for it, and this he was able to do, for his usual agent entered
the room as he was on the point of leaving it.

That evening he rejoined his aunt at their temporary abode, which was
a small dower-house not many hundred yards from the Manor. On the
following morning the two resumed a discussion that had now lasted for
some weeks as to the equipment of the new house. Mr. Denton laid
before his relative a statement of the results of his visit to
town--particulars of carpets, of chairs, of wardrobes, and of bedroom
china. "Yes, dear," said his aunt, "but I don't see any chintzes here.
Did you go to ----?" Mr. Denton stamped on the floor (where else,
indeed, could he have stamped?). "Oh dear, oh dear," he said, "the one
thing I missed. I _am_ sorry. The fact is I was on my way there and I
happened to be passing Robins's." His aunt threw up her hands.
"Robins's! Then the next thing will be another parcel of horrible old
books at some outrageous price. I do think, James, when I am taking
all this trouble for you, you might contrive to remember the one or
two things which I specially begged you to see after. It's not as if I
was asking it for myself. I don't know whether you think I get any
pleasure out of it, but if so I can assure you it's very much the
reverse. The thought and worry and trouble I have over it you have no
idea of, and _you_ have simply to go to the shops and order the
things." Mr. Denton interposed a moan of penitence. "Oh, aunt----"
"Yes, that's all very well, dear, and I don't want to speak sharply,
but you _must_ know how very ann