met her once and was so smitten with her that I purchased
her portrait forthwith. The most marvellous woman's face I ever saw. The
man I got it from spoke of her with the most appalling enthusiasm. 'Mab
Warrender!' he said. 'If she is not the loveliest woman in U.S., I guess
the next one would strike us blind.' Here! I'll show it you. Netta wants
me to frame it."

Clinton got up and took a book from a cupboard. Merefleet was watching
him with strained eyes. His heart was thumping as if it would choke him.
He rose as Clinton laid the picture before him, and steadied himself
unconsciously by his friend's shoulder.

Clinton glanced at him in some surprise.

"Hullo!" he said. "A friend of yours, was she? My dear fellow, I'm sorry.
I didn't know."

But Merefleet hung over the picture with fascinated eyes. And his answer
came with a curiously strained laugh, that somehow rang exultant.

"Yes, a friend of mine, old chap," he said. "It's a wonderful face, isn't
it? But it doesn't do her justice. I shouldn't frame it if I were you."

CHAPTER XVI

"Isn't he a monster?" said Mab, as she sat before the kitchen fire in
Quiller's humble dwelling with Mrs. Quiller's three months' old baby in
her arms. "I guess he'd fetch a prize at a baby show, Mrs. Quiller. Isn't
he just too knowing for anything?"

"He's the best of the bunch, miss," said Mrs. Quiller proudly. "The other
eight, they weren't nothing special. But this one, he be a beauty, though
it ain't me as should say it. I'm sure it's very good of you, miss, to
spend the time you do over him. He'd be an ungrateful little rogue if he
didn't get on."

"It's real kind of you to make me welcome," Mab said, with her cheek
against the baby's head, "I don't know what I'd do if you didn't."

"Ah! Poor dear! You must be lonesome now the gentleman's gone," said Mrs.
Quiller commiseratingly.

"Oh, no," said Mab lightly. "Not so very. I couldn't ask my cousin to
give up all his time to me you know. Besides, he would come to see me at
any time if I really wanted him."

"Ah!" Mrs. Quiller shook her head. "But it ain't the same. You wants a
home of your own, my dear. That's what it is. What's become of t'other
gentleman what used to be down here?"

Mab almost laughed at the artlessness of this query.

"Mr. Merefleet, you mean? I don't know. I guess he's making some more
money."

At this point old Quiller, who had been toddling about in the November
sunshine outside, pus