t sight, yes. Is that always to be enough for you, Mr Tristram?
If so, I shan't regret so much that I haven't--lots of time."

He stood silent before her for several seconds.

"Yes, I see. Perhaps. I daresay I can find out something about it. After
all, I've given some evidence of consideration for her."

"That makes it worse if you give none now. Good-by."

"It's less than a fortnight since I first met her. She won't miss me
much, Lady Evenswood."

"Time's everything, isn't it? Oh, you're not stupid! Think it over, Mr
Tristram. Now good-by. And don't conclude I shan't think about you
because it's only an hour since we met. We women are curious. When
you've nothing better to do it'll pay you to study us."

As Harry walked down from her house in Green Street, his thoughts were
divided between the new life and that old one which she had raised again
before his eyes by her reference to Cecily. The balance was turned in
favor of Blent by the sight of a man who was associated in his mind with
it--Sloyd, the house-agent who had let Merrion Lodge to Mina Zabriska.
Sloyd was as smart as usual, but he was walking along in a dejected way,
and his hat was unfashionably far back on his head. He started when he
saw Harry approaching him.

"Why, it's----" he began, and stopped in evident hesitation.

"Mr Tristram," said Harry. "Glad to meet you, Mr Sloyd, though you won't
have any more rent to hand over to me."

Sloyd began to murmur some rather flowery condolences.

Harry cut him short in a peremptory but good-natured fashion.

"How's business with you?" he asked.

"Might be worse, Mr Tristram. I don't complain. We're a young firm, and
we don't command the opportunities that others do." He laughed as he
added, "You couldn't recommend me to a gentleman with ten thousand
pounds to spare, could you, Mr Tristram?"

"I know just the man. What's it for?"

"No, no. Principals only," said Sloyd with a shake of his head.

"How does one become a principal then? I'll walk your way a bit." Harry
lit a cigar; Sloyd became more erect and amended the position of his
hat; he hoped that a good many people would recognize Harry. Yet social
pride did not interfere with business wariness.

"Are you in earnest, Mr Tristram? It's a safe thing."

"Oh, no, it isn't, or you wouldn't be hunting for ten thousand on the
pavement of Berkeley Square."

"I'll trust you," Sloyd declared. Harry nodded thanks, inwardly amused
at the obvious effo