?"

"Never better." And, watching her green-grey eyes, he added:

"Haven't a penny for you!"

Her face did not fall; she gave her feather-laugh.

"How dreadful of you to think I came for that! But I am in an awful fix,
Guardy."

"Never knew you not to be."

"Just let me tell you, dear; it'll be some relief. I'm having the most
terrible time."

She sank into a low chair, disengaging an overpowering scent of violets,
while melancholy struggled to subdue her face and body.

"The most awful fix. I expect to be sold up any moment. We may be on the
streets to-morrow. I daren't tell the children; they're so happy, poor
darlings. I shall be obliged to take Jock away from school. And Phyllis
will have to stop her piano and dancing; it's an absolute crisis. And
all due to those Midland Syndicate people. I've been counting on at
least two hundred for my new story, and the wretches have refused it."

With a tiny handkerchief she removed one tear from the corner of one
eye. "It is hard, Guardy; I worked my brain silly over that story."

From old Heythorp came a mutter which sounded suspiciously like:

"Rats!"

Heaving a sigh, which conveyed nothing but the generosity of her
breathing apparatus, Mrs. Larne went on:

"You couldn't, I suppose, let me have just one hundred?"

"Not a bob."

She sighed again, her eyes slid round the room; then in her warm voice
she murmured:

"Guardy, you were my dear Philip's father, weren't you? I've never said
anything; but of course you were. He was so like you, and so is Jock."

Nothing moved in old Heythorp's face. No pagan image consulted with
flowers and song and sacrifice could have returned less answer. Her dear
Philip! She had led him the devil of a life, or he was a Dutchman! And
what the deuce made her suddenly trot out the skeleton like this? But
Mrs. Larne's eyes were still wandering.

"What a lovely house! You know, I think you ought to help me, Guardy.
Just imagine if your grandchildren were thrown out into the street!"

The old man grinned. He was not going to deny his relationship--it was
her look-out, not his. But neither was he going to let her rush him.

"And they will be; you couldn't look on and see it. Do come to my rescue
this once. You really might do something for them."

With a rumbling sigh he answered:

"Wait. Can't give you a penny now. Poor as a church mouse."

"Oh! Guardy

"Fact."

Mrs. Larne heaved one of her most buoyant sighs. She certai