d daintily dressed. A
journalist! He gazed once more into her face, at the brown eyes watching
him now a little anxiously, the mouth with the humorous twitch at
the corner of her lips. The little wisps of hair flashed again in the
sunlight. It was she! He had found her.

She took his silence for hesitation, and continued a little anxiously.

"I really won't ask you many questions, and it would do me quite a lot
of good to get an interview with you. Of course I oughtn't to have begun
this sketch without permission. If you mind that, I'll give it up."

He found his tongue awkwardly, but vigorously.

"You can sketch just as long as ever you please, and make what use of it
you like," he said. "It's only a bit of a place though!"

"How nice of you! And the interview?"

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know," he said quietly.

She could scarcely believe in her good fortune, especially when she
remembered the description of the man which one of the staff had given.
He was gruff, vulgar, ill-tempered; the chief ought to be kicked for
letting her go near him! This was what she had been told. She laughed
softly to herself.

"It is very good indeed of you, Mr. Trent," she said earnestly. "I was
quite nervous about coming, for I had no idea that you would be so kind.
Shall I finish my sketch first, and then perhaps you will be able to
spare me a few minutes for the interview?"

"Just as you like," he answered. "May I look at it?"

"Certainly," she answered, holding out the block; "but it isn't half
finished yet."

"Will it take long?"

"About an hour, I think."

"You are very clever," he said, with a little sigh.

She laughed outright.

"People are calling you the cleverest man in London to-day," she said.

"Pshaw! It isn't the cleverness that counts for anything that makes
money."

Then he set his teeth hard together and swore vigorously but silently.
She had become suddenly interested in her work. A shrill burst of
laughter from the lawn in front had rung sharply out, startling them
both. A young woman with fluffy hair and in a pale blue dinner-dress was
dancing to an unseen audience. Trent's eyes flashed with anger, and his
cheeks burned. The dance was a music-hall one, and the gestures were not
refined. Before he could stop himself an oath had broken from his lips.
After that he dared not even glance at the girl by his side.

"I'm very sorry," he muttered. "I'll stop that right away."

"You mustn't di