t. He's a magnificent fellow."

A little later, after Septimus had inspected her morning's work in the
flat, and the night's progress in the boy's tooth, and the pretty new
blouse which she had put on in his honor, and the rose in her bosom taken
from the bunch he had sent to greet her arrival in the flat the night
before, and after he had heard of the valorous adventure of Madame Bolivard
and of a message from Hegisippe Cruchot which she had forgotten to deliver
overnight, and of an announcement from Zora to the effect that she would
call at Ecclefechan Mansions soon after lunch, and of many things of
infinite importance, Emmy asked him what Clem Sypher had been doing, and
wherein lay the particular magnificence of character to which Septimus had
alluded.

"He's awfully splendid," said Septimus. "He has given up a fortune for the
sake of an idea. He also gave me an umbrella and his blessing. Emmy"--he
looked at her in sudden alarm--"did I bring an umbrella with me?"

"You did, dear, and you put it in the stand; but what you've done with the
blessing, I don't know."

"I've got it in my heart," said he. "He's a tremendous chap."

Emmy's curiosity was excited. She sat on the fender seat and bent forward,
her hands on her knees, in a pretty girlish attitude and fixed her
forget-me-not eyes on him.

"Tell me all about it."

He obeyed and expounded Sypher's quixotism in his roundabout fashion. He
concluded by showing her how it had been done for Zora's sake.

Emmy made a little gesture of impatience.

"Zora!" she exclaimed jealously. "It's always Zora. To see how you men go
on, one would think there was no other woman in the world. Every one does
crazy things for her, and she looks on calmly and never does a hand's turn
for anybody. Clem Sypher's a jolly sight too good for her."

Septimus looked pained at the disparagement of his goddess. Emmy sprang to
her feet and put her finger-tips on his shoulders.

"Forgive me, dear. Women are cats--I've often told you--and love to scratch
even those they're fond of. Sometimes the more they love them the harder
they scratch. But I won't scratch you any more. Indeed I won't."

The sound of the latch-key was heard in the front door.

"There's Madame Bolivard," she cried. "I must see what miracle of loaves
and fishes she has performed. Do mind baby till I come back."

She danced out of the room, and Septimus sat on a straight-backed chair
beside the bassinette. The baby--he