Aren't you surprised?"
Old Heythorp, shook his head.
"I really had to come and see you, Guardy; we haven't had a sight of
you for such an age. And in this awful weather! How are you, dear old
Guardy?"
"Never better." And, watching her green-grey eyes, he added:
"Haven't a penny for you!"
Her face did not fall; she gave her feather-laugh.
"How dreadful of you to think I came for that! But I am in an awful fix,
Guardy."
"Never knew you not to be."
"Just let me tell you, dear; it'll be some relief. I'm having the most
terrible time."
She sank into a low chair, disengaging an overpowering scent of violets,
while melancholy struggled to subdue her face and body.
"The most awful fix. I expect to be sold up any moment. We may be on the
streets to-morrow. I daren't tell the children; they're so happy, poor
darlings. I shall be obliged to take Jock away from school. And Phyllis
will have to stop her piano and dancing; it's an absolute crisis. And
all due to those Midland Syndicate people. I've been counting on at
least two hundred for my new story, and the wretches have refused it."
With a tiny handkerchief she removed one tear from the corner of one
eye.
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