whereupon she gave a little exclamation and stood before Caspar Goodwood.
"I have just been at your hotel," she said. "I left a card for you."
"I am very much honoured," Caspar Goodwood answered, as if he really meant it.
"It was not to honour you I did it; I have called on you before, and I know you don't like it. It was to talk to you a little about something."
He looked for a moment at the buckle in her hat. "I shall be very glad to hear what you wish to say."
"You don't like to talk with me," said Henrietta. "But I don't care for that; I don't talk for your amusement. I wrote a word to ask you to come and see me; but since I have met you here this will do as well."
"I was just going away," Goodwood said; "but of course I will stop." He was civil, but he was not enthusiastic.
Henrietta, however, never looked for great professions, and she was so much in earnest that she was thankful he would listen to her on any terms. She asked him first, however, if he had seen all the pictures.
"All I want to. I have been here an hour."
"I wonder if you have seen my Correggio," said Henrietta. "I came up on purpose to have a look at it." She went into the Tribune, and he slowly accompanied her.
"I suppose I have seen it, but I didn't know it was yours. I don't remember pictures—especially that sort." She had pointed out her favourite work; and he asked her if it was about Correggio that she wished to talk with him.
"No," said Henrietta, "it's about something less harmonious!" They had the small, brilliant room, a splendid cabinet of trea-
