idn't know you were ill. We would
have sent you things from the Buckingham. Our own cook is so poor."

She couldn't sit down, she had just run in on her way to shop. She had
something to say to him....

"What's wrong, Aunt Caroline?"

His aunt took a seat beside him on the bed. Her dove-like eyes wandered
about his room, bare save for the drawings on the walls and on a chair
in the corner, a cast covered by a wet cloth. Mrs. Carew's hands clasped
over her silk bead purse hanging empty between the rings.

"I have come to ask a great favour of you, Antony."

He repeated, in astonishment, "Of _me_--why, Auntie, anything that I can
do...."

Mrs. Carew's slender figure undulated, the sculptor thought. She made
him think of a swan--of a lily. Her pale, ineffectual features had an
old-fashioned loveliness. He put his hand over his aunt's. He murmured
devotedly--

"You must let me do anything there is to do."

"I am in debt, Tony," she murmured, tremulously. "Your uncle gives me
_so_ little money--it's impossible to run the establishment."

He exclaimed hotly, "It's a _shame_, Aunt Caroline."

"Henry thinks we spend a great deal of money, but I like to dress the
children well."

Her nephew recalled Bella's wardrobe. Mrs. Carew, as though she
confessed a readily-forgiven fault, whispered--

"I am so fond of bric-a-brac, Antony."

He could not help smiling.

"Down in Maiden Lane last week I bought a beautiful lamp for the front
hall. I intended paying for it by instalments; but I've not been able to
save enough--the men are waiting at the house. I _can't_ tell your
uncle, I really _can't_. He would turn me out of doors."

Over Fairfax's mind flashed the picture of the "Soul of honour"
confronted by a debt to a Jew ironmonger. His aunt's daily pilgrimage
began to assume a picturesqueness and complexity that were puzzling.

"Carew's a brute," he said, shortly. "I can't see why you married him."

Mrs. Carew, absorbed in the picture of the men waiting in the front hall
and the iron lamp waiting as well, did not reply.

"How much do you need, Auntie?"

"Only fifty dollars, my dear boy. I can give it back next week when
Henry pays me my allowance."

He exclaimed: "I am lucky to have it to help you out, Auntie. I've got
it right here."

The sense of security transformed Mrs. Carew. She laughed gently, put
her hand on her nephew's shoulder again, exclaiming--

"How _fortunate_! Tony, how _glad_ I am I thought