wet things, or I shall have you
to nurse an' all!"

The kind, blunt soul bustled to bring him a large can of scalding water,
and Langholm bathed and changed before going near the invalid. He also
felt another man. The thorough wetting had cooled his spirit and calmed
his nerves. His head still ached for sleep, but now it was clear enough.
If only his duty were half as plain as the mystery that was one no
more! Yet it was something to have solved the prime problem; nay,
everything, since it freed his mind for concentration upon his own
immediate course. But Langholm reckoned without his stricken guest next
door; and went up presently, intending to stay five or ten minutes at
the most.

Severino lay smiling, like a happy and excited child. Langholm was sorry
to detect the excitement, but determined to cut his own visit shorter
than ever. It was more pleasing to him to note how neat and comfortable
the room was now, for that was his own handiwork, and the ladies had
been there to see it. The good Bruntons had moved most of their things
into the room to which they had themselves migrated. In their stead were
other things which Langholm had unearthed from the lumber in his upper
story, dusted, and carried down and up with his own hands. Thus at the
bedside stood a real Chippendale table, with a real Delft vase upon it,
filled with such roses as had survived the rain. A drop of water had
been spilt upon the table from the vase, and there was something almost
fussy in the way that Langholm removed it with his handkerchief.

"Oh," said Severino, "she quite fell in love with the table you found
for me, and Mrs. Woodgate wanted the vase. They were wondering if Mrs.
Brunton would accept a price."

"They don't belong to Mrs. Brunton," said Langholm, shortly.

"No? Mrs. Woodgate said she had never noticed them in your room. Where
did you pick them up?"

Langholm looked at the things, lamps of remembrance alight beneath his
lowered eyelids. "The table came from a little shop on Bushey Heath, in
Hertfordshire, you know. We--I was spending the day there once ... you
had to stoop to get in at the door, I remember. The vase is only from
Great Portland Street." The prices were upon his lips; both had been
bargains, a passing happiness and pride.

"I must remember to tell them when they come to-morrow," said Severino.
"They are the sort of thing a woman likes."

"They are," agreed Langholm, his lowered eyes still lingering on the