.
It's a sort of primitive law of the universe, and it'll hold good for
all time, I suppose."

"Oh, I should chance all that," said Wyndham.

"But what is beauty?" insisted Sadler.

"I know when I see it," laughed Wyndham.

"Give me character," said Sadler. "Unselfishness and loyalty are the
chief points, and a sort of sweet reasonableness, of course. If a
woman's features aren't quite classical, it's wonderful what a good
dressmaker can do to set them off. Waiter! Cigarettes!"

When ultimately the waiter brought the bill, Sadler produced a silver
sovereign purse, saw with unconcealed horror that it contained only half
a sovereign, then felt in his pockets for loose silver. "It's rather
awkward," he said, pulling the longest of faces. "I'm afraid I haven't
enough left on me after paying for my colours and materials this
morning. I shall have to ask you to lend me a little."

A flash of surprise, an imperceptible raising of the eyebrows; then
swiftly Wyndham accepted the situation, and threw down one of Mary's
banknotes. "Sorry I've nothing smaller," he said, smiling.

"All right, old fellow," said Sadler. "You pay this time, I'll pay next
time."

By the time the waiter brought Wyndham his change, the conversation had
passed on to the last exhibition of the New English Art Club.

Wyndham arrived home, after completing all his business calls, late in
the afternoon, and found that the charwoman had finished her work, and
was replacing the furniture. A not unpleasant tinge of turpentine
permeated the atmosphere. The oak presses, newly polished with beeswax,
shone and glowed even in the shadow of the afternoon. For the first time
for months the hearth was clear of ashes and cinders, and the stone
scoured and whitened.

When the woman had gone he devoted a few minutes to wandering about his
domain, enjoying this new sensation of spotlessness, appreciating the
professional hand, the skill of which had never before seemed so
legitimate a theme for admiration. Then he sat down and wrote to Mary as
follows:--

"MY DEAR LITTLE MARY,--Your sweet little letter came this morning,
and at a moment to be of the greatest service to me. Fortune has
already smiled on me again. For the immediate present I have a
portrait commission for a couple of hundred guineas! A great
fortune--is it not?--after all these seasons of leanness! You will
guess that I am now ambitious of getting to grips again with the big
picture. I ha