ed once more into deep thought; then he said:

"Where does one buy a kilt--and a sporran?"

"Whiteley's, I suppose," said Mr. James. Then he added hastily: "But I
say, oughtn't we to do something to amuse these children?"

At once his friend forgot his seared heart; for the while the process
of healing it did not exercise his wits. He flung himself heart and
soul into the business of amusing Pollyooly and the Lump; and presently
the studio rang with their screams of joy. There may have been some
truth in the assertion of his detractors that Hilary Vance's drawing
was facile and too far on the side of mere prettiness; but no one in
the world could deny that he made a splendid elephant: his trumpeting
was especially true to life.

Ten days passed pleasantly at his studio; and both Pollyooly and the
Lump were the better for the change. Three times she went to the
King's Bench Walk and cleaned the rooms against the Honourable John
Ruffin's return; four times she went to the dancing class in Soho,
where she was training for a career on the stage. On the evening of
the tenth day came a letter to say that he would be back at noon on the
morrow. After breakfast, therefore, Hilary Vance despatched the two
children back to the King's Bench Walk in a taxicab, the Lump hugging a
large box of chocolate creams, Pollyooly, in no less joy, clasping
firmly her shabby little purse which contained, beyond the silver she
carried to meet any natural expense, a golden sovereign, the artist's
parting gift. Her sky was now serene; but she was still mindful of the
days when the jaws of the workhouse had yawned for her and the Lump,
and she lost no chance of adding to her hoard in the Post Office
Savings Bank. Immediately on her arrival at the Temple she went to the
post office and added the sovereign to it.

The Honourable John Ruffin arrived from Buda-Pesth, looking the browner
for the change, and in very good spirits. He brought the friendliest
messages and Hungarian gifts to Pollyooly and the Lump from the
Esmeralda, and was able to assure them that she was in excellent
health, and enjoying a genuine triumph.

When he had delivered the Esmeralda's gifts and assured Pollyooly of
her prosperity, there came a short silence; then Pollyooly said:

"And the Moldo-Wallachian, sir?"

The fine grey eyes of the Honourable John Ruffin twinkled, as he said
gravely:

"The Moldo-Wallachian has returned to Moldo-Wallachia. When the idea