for her. She had not seen Tims for
many weeks, not since the Easter Vacation, which had already receded
into a remote distance; so far had she journeyed since then along the
path of her fate. Nor had she so much as wondered at not seeing Tims.
But now her mind was turned to consider the latent power which that
strange creature held over her life, her dearest interests; since how
might not Milly comport herself with George?

Then it was that she realized how long it had been since Tims had crept
up the stairs to her drawing-room; pausing probably in the middle of
them to wipe away with hasty pocket-handkerchief some real or fancied
trace of her foot on a carpet which she condemned as expensive.

Mildred had written her a note, but it was hardly posted when the door
was flung open and Miss Timson was formally announced by the
parlor-maid. Tony, who was looking at pictures with his mother, rose
from her side, prepared to take a hop, skip, and jump and land with his
arms around Tims's waist. But he stopped short and contemplated her
with round-eyed solemnity. The ginger-colored man's wig had developed
into a frizzy fringe and the rest of the coiffure of the hour. A large
picture hat surmounted it, and her little person was clothed in a vivid
heliotrope dress of the latest mode. It was a handsome dress, a handsome
hat, a handsome wig, yet somehow the effect was jarring. Tony felt
vaguely shocked. "Bless thee! Thou art translated!" he might have cried
with Quince; but being a polite child, he said nothing, only put out a
small hand sadly. Tims, however, unconscious of the slight chill cast by
her appearance, kissed him in a perfunctory, patronizing way, as ladies
do who are afraid of disarranging their veils. She greeted Mildred also
with a parade of mundane elegance, and sat down deliberately on the
sofa, spreading out her heliotrope skirts.

"You can run away just now, little man," she said to Tony. "I want to
talk to your mother."

"How smart you are!" observed Mildred, seeing that comment of some kind
would be welcome. "Been to Sir James Carus's big party at the Museum, I
suppose. You're getting a personage, Tims."

"I dare say I shall look in later, but I shouldn't trouble to dress up
for that, my girl. Clothes would be quite wasted there. But I think one
should always try to look decent, don't you? One's men like it."

Mildred smiled.

"I suppose Ian would notice it if I positively wasn't decent. But, Tims,
dea