ere woman
after all, with no mission in life but the accomplishment of her womanhood,
and she gloried in the knowledge. This was exceedingly good for her. Sypher
regarded her with shining eyes as if she had been an immortal vesting
herself in human clay for divine love of him; and this was exceedingly good
for Sypher. After much hyperbole they descended to kindly commonplace.

"But I don't see now," he cried, "how I can ask you to marry me. I don't
even know how I'm to earn my living."

"There are Septimus's inventions. Have you lost your faith in them?"

He cried with sudden enthusiasm, as who should say, if an Immortal has
faith in them, then indeed must they be divine:

"Do you believe in them now?"

"Utterly. I've grown superstitious, too. Wherever we turn there is
Septimus. He has raised Emmy from hell to heaven. He has brought us two
together. He is our guardian angel. He'll never fail us. Oh, Clem, thank
heaven," she exclaimed fervently, "I've got something to believe in at
last."

* * * * *

Meanwhile the guardian angel, entirely unconscious of apotheosis, sat in
the little flat in Chelsea blissfully eating crumpets over which Emmy had
spread the preposterous amount of butter which proceeds from an overflowing
heart. She knelt on the hearth rug watching him adoringly as if he were a
hierophant eating sacramental wafer. They talked of the future. He
mentioned the nice houses he had seen in Berkeley Square.

"Berkeley Square would be very charming," said Emmy, "but it would mean
carriages and motor-cars and powdered footmen and Ascot and balls and
dinner parties and presentations at Court. You would be just in your
element, wouldn't you, dear?"

She laughed and laid her happy head on his knee.

"No, dear. If we want to have a fling together, you and I, in London, let
us keep on this flat as a _pied-a-terre_. But let us live at Nunsmere. The
house is quite big enough, and if it isn't you can always add on a bit at
the cost of a month's rent in Berkeley Square. Wouldn't you prefer to live
at Nunsmere?"

"You and the boy and my workshop are all I want in the world," said he.

"And not Wiggleswick?"

One of his rare smiles passed across his face.

"I think Wiggleswick will be upset."

Emmy laughed again. "What a funny household it will be--Wiggleswick and
Madame Bolivard! It will be lovely!"

Septimus reflected for an anxious moment. "Do you know, dear," he said
diffi