a foolish remark I made to Miss Drummond, in the greatest of innocence, intimating that Stranleigh was no judge of art, and would buy her pictures because I asked him to, not through their merit at all. Of course, I see now that I should have claimed for Stranleigh the greatest artistic judgment, and should have added, 'Therefore he'll buy your water-colours'; but I never think of these things till an hour afterwards. At the present moment I have a woman problem on my hands that I don't know how to solve. Did you ever meet Mackeller's wife?"
"I didn't know he was married."
"Yes, he married an American girl—a Miss Sarsfield-Mitcham. Awfully clever she is, and, they tell me, a raving beauty."
"Haven't you seen her?"
"Yes, often."
"Well, isn't she a beauty?"
"I tell you, I'm no judge. I suppose she is. All the time I was in America I never spoke to a woman. Now, Mrs. Mackeller has taken a violent dislike to me. Peter is so honest and transparent that I can see right through him, and I know she's filling his mind with prejudice against me. There was a little business arrangement in America which she wanted Peter to pull off, and which Peter was perfectly willing to pull off, but suddenly Peter, like a man who can't swim wading in an unknown river, stepped out of his financial depth. I was
