f exceptional common sense, and, being such, she would not risk the
loss of a large fortune merely for the sake of indulging pique
engendered by his refusal to gratify a ridiculous caprice.

Before she had well quitted the room he saw with clearness that he was
quite the astutest man in the world, and that Helen was clay in his
hands.

The sound of crockery in the scullery, and the cheerful little explosion
when the gas-ring was ignited, and the low mutter of conversation that
ensued between Helen and Georgiana--these phenomena were music to the
artist in him. He extracted the concertina from its case and began to
play "The Dead March in Saul." Not because his sentiments had a
foundation in the slightest degree funereal, but because he could
perform "The Dead March in Saul" with more virtuosity than any other
piece except "The Hallelujah Chorus." And he did not desire to insist
too much on his victory by filling Trafalgar-road with "The Hallelujah
Chorus." He was discretion itself.

When she came back to the parlour (astoundingly natty in a muslin apron
of Georgiana's) to announce supper, she made no reference to the concert
which she was interrupting. He abandoned the concertina gently,
caressing it into its leather shell. He was full to the brim with
kindliness. It seemed to him that his life with Helen was commencing
all over again. Then he followed the indications of his nose, which
already for some minutes had been prophesying to him that in the
concoction of the supper Helen had surpassed herself.

And she had. There was kidney ... No, not in an omelette, but impaled on
a skewer. A novel species of kidney, a particularity in kidneys!

"Where didst pick this up, lass?" he asked.

"It's the kidneys of that rabbit that you've bought for to-morrow," said
she.

Now, he had no affection for rabbit as an article of diet, and he had
only bought the rabbit because the rabbit happened to be going past his
door (in the hands of a hawker) that morning. His perfunctory purchase
of it showed how he had lost interest in life and meals since Helen's
departure. And lo! she had transformed a minor part of it into something
wondrous, luscious, and unforgettable. Ah, she was Helen! And she was
his!

"I've asked Georgiana to make up my bed," Helen said, after the divine
repast.

"I'll tell ye what I'll do," he said, in an ecstasy of generosity, "I'll
buy thee a piano, lass, and we'll put it in th' parlour against the wall