d she
explained that she had ventured to come straight in, that way, because
very often when she went to call upon gentlemen the servants played her
tricks, turned her off and wouldn't take in her name.

'But how did you get into the garden?' Lyon asked.

'The gate was open, sir--the servants' gate. The butcher's cart was
there.'

'The butcher ought to have closed it,' said Lyon.

'Then you don't require me, sir?' the lady continued.

Lyon went on with his painting; he had given her a sharp look at first,
but now his eyes lighted on her no more. The Colonel, however, examined
her with interest. She was a person of whom you could scarcely say
whether being young she looked old or old she looked young; she had at
any rate evidently rounded several of the corners of life and had a face
that was rosy but that somehow failed to suggest freshness. Nevertheless
she was pretty and even looked as if at one time she might have sat for
the complexion. She wore a hat with many feathers, a dress with many
bugles, long black gloves, encircled with silver bracelets, and very bad
shoes. There was something about her that was not exactly of the
governess out of place nor completely of the actress seeking an
engagement, but that savoured of an interrupted profession or even of a
blighted career. She was rather soiled and tarnished, and after she had
been in the room a few moments the air, or at any rate the nostril,
became acquainted with a certain alcoholic waft. She was unpractised in
the _h_, and when Lyon at last thanked her and said he didn't want
her--he was doing nothing for which she could be useful--she replied
with rather a wounded manner, 'Well, you know you _'ave_ 'ad me!'

'I don't remember you,' Lyon answered.

'Well, I daresay the people that saw your pictures do! I haven't much
time, but I thought I would look in.'

'I am much obliged to you.'

'If ever you should require me, if you just send me a postcard----'

'I never send postcards,' said Lyon.

'Oh well, I should value a private letter! Anything to Miss Geraldine,
Mortimer Terrace Mews, Notting 'ill----'

'Very good; I'll remember,' said Lyon.

Miss Geraldine lingered. 'I thought I'd just stop, on the chance.'

'I'm afraid I can't hold out hopes, I'm so busy with portraits,' Lyon
continued.

'Yes; I see you are. I wish I was in the gentleman's place.'

'I'm afraid in that case it wouldn't look like me,' said the Colonel,
laughing.

'Oh, of cours