waste no time and, as soon as I was ready, I briefly
conferred with Frances, telling her that Gordon would probably be very
glad to employ her for a short time that would tide over the interval
before Felicie would be ready to resume business at the old stand. She
looked at me, rather uncertainly, as if the suggestion were not
altogether a pleasing one. At any rate a tiny wrinkle or two showed for
an instant between her brows.

"Don't you think it is a good idea?" I asked her.

"I--I suppose it is," she answered slowly, and then, impulsively, put
her hand on my arm.

"Of course it is, you dear good friend," she declared. "I am ready to go
there as soon as he may want me. He--he has been so friendly, of late,
bringing us candies and flowers, and chatting with us, that--that it
will seem a little bit harder, but, of course, it will be just the same
as before, and he will think of nothing but his painting."

"I will go and see him at once," I told her, "I may find that he is busy
with a portrait and has no time for other work, but I might as well go
and ascertain."

I was being shot up the elevator towards Gordon's studio when I suddenly
remembered that letter at the consul's. I must confess that it had
altogether escaped my memory. I consoled myself with the idea that my
interview with Gordon would be brief, and that I should immediately
return and tell Frances about it. Perhaps she would allow me to go
downtown with her to obtain it. She must not go alone, of course, since
she would open the thing there and then. I could imagine her in that
office, among indifferent people, weeping and without a friend to take
her arm and lead her out, with not a word of consolation and
encouragement. Yes, I would go with her!

"Hey, Mister! Didn't you say the tenth floor?"

Thus did the elevator boy interrupt my cogitations; but for him I might
have kept on going up and down a dozen times, so busily was I engaged
in picturing to myself the emotions of Frances when she should receive
that letter. I got out of the cage, hurriedly, and rang Gordon's bell,
the Jap opening with a polite grin of recognition.

"Can I go into the studio?" I asked. "Is Mr. McGrath engaged?"

"No, sir, but I tell him."

The man went in, after taking my hat and coat, and Gordon rushed out to
meet me.

"Hello, Dave!" he greeted me. "When you rang the bell, I thought it was
Lorimer--the Lorimer. He told me last night at the Van Rossums that he
would d