pon the stranger without her being aware of
it. She had dropped unconsciously into her "stocktaking" attitude.

"Thank you very much," said the stranger. "I will call again to-morrow."

The stranger, moving backward to the door, went out.

Tommy sat with her face between her hands. _Czerny's Exercises_ lay
neglected.

"Anybody called?" asked Peter Hope.

"No," answered Tommy. "Oh, just a man. Left this--not bad."

"The old story," mused Peter, as he unfolded the manuscript. "We all of
us begin with poetry. Then we take to prose romances; poetry doesn't
pay. Finally, we write articles: 'How to be Happy though Married,' 'What
shall we do with our Daughters?' It is life summarised. What is it all
about?"

"Oh, the usual sort of thing," explained Tommy. "He wants half a crown
for it."

"Poor devil! Let him have it."

"That's not business," growled Tommy.

"Nobody will ever know," said Peter. "We'll enter it as 'telegrams.'"

The stranger called early the next day, pocketed his half-crown, and left
another manuscript--an essay. Also he left behind him his gold-handled
umbrella, taking away with him instead an old alpaca thing Clodd kept in
reserve for exceptionally dirty weather. Peter pronounced the essay
usable.

"He has a style," said Peter; "he writes with distinction. Make an
appointment for me with him."

Clodd, on missing his umbrella, was indignant.

"What's the good of this thing to me?" commented Clodd. "Sort of thing
for a dude in a pantomime! The fellow must be a blithering ass!"

Tommy gave to the stranger messages from both when next he called. He
appeared more grieved than surprised concerning the umbrellas.

"You don't think Mr. Clodd would like to keep this umbrella in exchange
for his own?" he suggested.

"Hardly his style," explained Tommy.

"It's very peculiar," said the stranger, with a smile. "I have been
trying to get rid of this umbrella for the last three weeks. Once upon a
time, when I preferred to keep my own umbrella, people used to take it by
mistake, leaving all kinds of shabby things behind them in exchange. Now,
when I'd really like to get quit of it, nobody will have it."

"Why do you want to get rid of it?" asked Tommy. "It looks a very good
umbrella."

"You don't know how it hampers me," said the stranger. "I have to live
up to it. It requires a certain amount of resolution to enter a cheap
restaurant accompanied by that umbrella. When I do