im, your
wishes to the contrary notwithstanding. We made your servants let us in
and I took a good look at the picture. It is really wonderful!'
'Wonderful' was non-committal, but at least with this letter there was
no rupture.

The third day after Lyon's return to London was a Sunday, so that he
could go and ask Mrs. Capadose for luncheon. She had given him in the
spring a general invitation to do so and he had availed himself of it
several times. These had been the occasions (before he sat to him) when
he saw the Colonel most familiarly. Directly after the meal his host
disappeared (he went out, as he said, to call on _his_ women) and the
second half-hour was the best, even when there were other people. Now,
in the first days of December, Lyon had the luck to find the pair alone,
without even Amy, who appeared but little in public. They were in the
drawing-room, waiting for the repast to be announced, and as soon as he
came in the Colonel broke out, 'My dear fellow, I'm delighted to see
you! I'm so keen to begin again.'

'Oh, do go on, it's so beautiful,' Mrs. Capadose said, as she gave him
her hand.

Lyon looked from one to the other; he didn't know what he had expected,
but he had not expected this. 'Ah, then, you think I've got something?'

'You've got everything,' said Mrs. Capadose, smiling from her
golden-brown eyes.

'She wrote you of our little crime?' her husband asked. 'She dragged me
there--I had to go.' Lyon wondered for a moment whether he meant by
their little crime the assault on the canvas; but the Colonel's next
words didn't confirm this interpretation. 'You know I like to sit--it
gives such a chance to my _bavardise_. And just now I have time.'

'You must remember I had almost finished,' Lyon remarked.

'So you had. More's the pity. I should like you to begin again.'

'My dear fellow, I shall have to begin again!' said Oliver Lyon with a
laugh, looking at Mrs. Capadose. She did not meet his eyes--she had got
up to ring for luncheon. 'The picture has been smashed,' Lyon
continued.

'Smashed? Ah, what did you do that for?' Mrs. Capadose asked, standing
there before him in all her clear, rich beauty. Now that she looked at
him she was impenetrable.

'I didn't--I found it so--with a dozen holes punched in it!'

'I say!' cried the Colonel.

Lyon turned his eyes to him, smiling. 'I hope _you_ didn't do it?'

'Is it ruined?' the Colonel inquired. He was as brightly true as his
wife and he l