and Josie, she explained, George not having yet escaped from that
horrible night-work. Harry was well and would be home after a while. He
was painting a series of scenes from city life, the sketches of which she
showed him. Arty was married to a very nice girl, who knew all his
poetry, every line, by heart. Ford was well, only more bitter than ever.
When Ned asked after Geisner, she said he had not been back since and she
had only heard once, indirectly, that he was well. Thus she led him to
talk and he told her partly what took place between Strong and himself.
Strong's offer he could not tell to anyone.

"You didn't get on with Nellie last night?" she asked, alluding to his
"worrying." Having taken the baby out she had sat down on the stool by
the open piano.

Ned looked up. "How do you know? Has she been here?"

"No. She hasn't been here, but I can tell. You men always carry your
hearts on your sleeve, when you think you aren't. You asked her to marry
you, I suppose, and she said 'No.' Isn't that it?"

"I can't tell you all about it, Mrs. Stratton," answered Ned, frankly.
"That's about it. But she did quite right. She thought she shouldn't and
when Nellie thinks anything she tries to do it. That's what should be."

Mrs. Stratton strummed a few notes. "I'll show you something," she said,
finally, getting up. "It passes the time to show old curiosities."

She left the room, returning in a few minutes with a quaint box of dark
wood, bound with chased iron work and inlaid with some semi-transparent
substance in the pattern of a coat-of-arms. She opened it with a little
key that hung on her watch chain. Inside were a number of compartments,
covered with little lids. She lifted them all, together, exposing under
the tray a deeper recess. From this she took a miniature case.

"Look at it!" she said, smiling. "I ought to charge you sixpence but I
won't."

Ned pressed the spring, the lid of the case flew up, and there, in
water-colour, was the head and bust of a girl. The face was a delicate
oval, the mouth soft and sweet, the eyes bright with youth and health,
the whole appearance telling of winning grace and cultured beauty. The
fullness of the brows betrayed the artist instinct. The hair was drawn to
the top of the head in a strange foreign fashion. The softly curving
lines of face and figure showed womanhood begun.

"She is very beautiful," commented Ned. Then, looking at it more closely:
"Do you know that someh