They were his sole guests; and beneath his kind and courteous manner, Toni lost her shyness and charmed her host by her girlish simplicity and directness.

It happened that the conversation turned on the bungalows which lined the banks of the river as it flowed through Willowhurst; and presently Mr. Anson asked a question.

"You've got Vyse down there, haven't you? You know the chap I mean--the portrait-painter."

"I don't think so." Owen was puzzled. "At least I have not heard of him being there. Have you, Toni?"

"Yes--Mr. Anson means Mr. Herrick," said Toni quietly. "He told me the other day he had changed his name."

"Ah yes, I remember now--something about some money, I believe. You know him, Mrs. Rose?"

"Yes. He fished me out of the river one day when I had fallen in," said Toni smiling. "And he has been to see us several times--but I didn't know he was famous," she finished navely.

"Didn't you? Why, he is--or was--one of the foremost men in his own line until there was the trouble with his wife."

"Surely you don't mean that jewel affair?" Owen asked meditatively.

"Didn't Vyse's wife steal a pearl necklace or something of the sort? I seem to remember something about it--though I did not connect it with this chap."

"His wife--who was one of the prettiest Irish girls I ever saw--got a valuable necklace on approval and p.a.w.ned it for money to pay her debts, yes. Poor fellow, it broke him up completely."

"Really?" Owen was interested. "Where is she--the wife--now? Did he leave her, or what happened?"

"She is in prison," returned the other man slowly. "I understand her time is nearly up, and I am wondering what they will do when she comes out again."

"In prison--ah yes, I recollect the affair now, though I was away at the time. Got eighteen months, didn't she?"

"Yes. It was the most painful experience I've ever had, to listen to her being sentenced." Mr. Anson's florid face grew grave. "It happened that her Counsel was a nephew of mine, and I promised to hear him handle the case. But, of course, it was hopeless from the start."

"The husband--this chap Herrick--was blameless, I suppose?"

"Quite. He knew nothing about it, though the girl tried her hardest to implicate him. He did his best, too, would have sworn anything to clear her and take the blame, but her lies were all so dreadfully patent it was no use. In the end she told the truth, thinking it would help her; but it was too late then."

"She took it badly?"

"Terribly. She cried and shrieked for mercy, fought like a tiger with the officials who tried to take her away, and screamed reproaches at her husband, till everyone was sick of the scene. Of course, she never dreamed they would send her--a lady, and a delicate bit of a girl, too--to prison like a common thief, and she completely lost her self-control when she realized what was going to happen. It was a relief to everyone when she gave one last cry and fainted right away."

"Hard lines on the husband," said Owen, reflectively.

"Deuced hard lines--and he as decent a fellow as ever stepped. Why he ever married her, G.o.d only knows. She didn't care a bit for him--wasted his money and then reviled him because he'd no more. Of course, she came of a rotten stock--wasters and gamblers every one--and this was how the hereditary taint came out in her."

"She must have served most of her sentence by now?"

"Comes out next week. I wonder what he will do with her. She's not the sort of woman to live in a shanty by the riverside, and yet he can't very well bring her back to town."

"I wonder?" Owen glanced at his watch. "I say, Anson, I don't want to be rude--after our excellent lunch!--but I've an appointment at the office at three and it's a quarter to now."

"All right, my boy, I won't detain you." Anson rose at once. "I'm glad you keep an eye on the _Bridge_--it's a fine little review and going ahead all the time."

Owen's face brightened at this authoritative praise.

"I'm glad you think go. Of course, we are jolly lucky in our staff, and we've got the best sort of contributors, too."

"Yes. By the way, how on earth have you managed to get all this stuff turned out with a disabled arm?" He patted the thick packet of ma.n.u.script and glanced at Owen's inconspicuous sling wonderingly.

"Perhaps Mrs. Rose helped you?" He looked, with a smile, at Toni.

"No." She coloured hotly. "I did not help at all."

"Miss Loder--my secretary at the office--came down to help me," said Owen easily. "She is used to the work, you see, and does it excellently."

"I see." The kindly eyes had seen Ton's flush. "Well, no doubt Mrs. Rose is satisfied to inspire your work and let others do the manual labour.

The power behind the throne, eh, Mrs. Rose? That's what women used to be, bless them, before these dreadful Suffragettes arose to destroy woman's real influence by violence and wrongheadedness."

"I expect my wife is jolly thankful the book's finished," said Owen laughing. "She has had a pretty thin time while I've been writing it.

But now I suppose there will be a lull of a few weeks?"

"Oh, I won't keep you long," said Mr. Anson genially. "I'll send the ma.n.u.script to the reader to-night, and let you know as soon as possible."

They parted from their host on the pavement out side the Carlson, and Owen turned to Toni.

"Now, dear, what will you do? Will you come with me to the office, or have you any shopping?"

Toni bit her lip nervously. She had a request to make, and did not know how to set about it.

"Well?" Owen watched her, wondering why she looked embarra.s.sed.

"Owen, would you mind if I went to Brixton to see my aunt? I--I'm afraid they think I'm a little unkind, and after all they have always been good to me."

"Why, Toni"--Owen was genuinely surprised--"you don't mean to say you are afraid to ask me that! Of course you can go. I'll come to fetch you when I've finished my work, if you like."

"Will you?" She knew how such a visit would gratify her aunt. "Shall I take a taxi, then, Owen? You'll want the car."

"Yes, I think that would be best, then you can stay as long as possible.

What time shall I come, Toni? Half-past five or so?"

"Yes. That will be lovely. Then we'll have a jolly ride home."

He called a taxi accordingly and installed Toni therein; and he stood back to watch her gliding away from him in the mellow September sunshine, before he hurried to the office where Barry was impatiently awaiting his arrival.

Toni found several members of the Gibbs family at home when at length she reached her destination.

Being Thursday, f.a.n.n.y was enjoying her weekly holiday, and was delighted to see Toni; more especially because she had a piece of news to confide which appealed strongly to f.a.n.n.y's romantic nature.

When the first greetings were over, and Mrs. Gibbs had retired with the hospitable intention of "putting on the kettle," f.a.n.n.y beckoned mysteriously to Toni to mount the narrow stairs leading to the room the girls had formerly shared in common.

Toni mounted obediently; and for a second she forgot to wonder what Miss Gibbs' extraordinary signals might imply, for a sudden feeling of grat.i.tude to Owen for having lifted her out of this dingy atmosphere flooded her impressionable nature.

Surely when she too had slept beneath this low ceiling the room had not been quite so small, so stuffy. The wall-paper was the one she and f.a.n.n.y had themselves chosen years ago, but it was oddly faded and dirty now, and in one corner a great piece had peeled off, hanging in strips and disclosing the plaster behind. The common furniture, too--the rickety deal dressing-table, the broken chair, the unpainted iron bedsteads--thinking of her own airy, s.p.a.cious, bedroom with its shining toilet-table, its linen bedspread, its big windows opening on to a view of the river and the fields beyond, Toni wondered how she had ever endured life in these sordid, depressing surroundings.