the tawdry flowers and the caterpillar. No, it could not be
that; the painting was absolutely worthless. Mr Sharnall had followed
him, and they stood side by side looking out of the window. Westray was
passing through a very brief interval of indecision. His emotional and
perhaps better feelings told him that he ought to accede to Mr
Sharnall's request; caution and the hoarding instinct reminded him that
ten pounds was a large proportion of his whole available capital.

Bright sunshine had succeeded the rain. The puddles flashed on the
pavements; the long rows of raindrops glistened on the ledges which
overhung the shop-windows, and a warm steam rose from the sandy roadway
as it dried in the sun. The front-door of Bellevue Lodge closed below
them, and Anastasia, in a broad straw hat and a pink print dress, went
lightly down the steps. On that bright morning she looked the brightest
thing of all, as she walked briskly to the market with a basket on her
arm, unconscious that two men were watching her from an upper window.

It was at that minute that thrift was finally elbowed by sentiment out
of Westray's mind.

"Yes," he said, "by all means let us buy the picture. You negotiate the
matter with Miss Joliffe, and I will give you two five-pound notes this
evening."

"Thank you--thank you," said the organist, with much relief. "I will
tell Miss Euphemia that she can buy it back from us whenever it suits
her to do so; and if she should not buy it back before one of us dies,
then it shall remain the sole property of the survivor."

So that very day the purchase of a rare work of art was concluded by
private treaty between Miss Euphemia Joliffe of the one part, and
Messrs. Nicholas Sharnall and Edward Westray of the other. The hammer
never fell upon the showy flowers with the green caterpillar wriggling
in the corner; and Messrs. Baunton and Lutterworth received a polite
note from Miss Joliffe to say that the painting late in the possession
of Martin Joliffe, Esquire, deceased, was not for sale.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

The old Bishop of Carisbury was dead, and a new Bishop of Carisbury
reigned in his stead. The appointment had caused some chagrin in
Low-Church circles, for Dr Willis, the new Bishop, was a High Churchman
of pronounced views. But he had a reputation for deep personal piety,
and a very short experience sufficed to show that he was full of
Christian tolerance and tactful loving-kindness.

One day