St. John laughed at the disparaging tone and teasingly pinched her ear.

"Incredible as it may sound he was," he replied. "I believe she refused him a little while ago but he has been out of England since then and I never heard the rights of the case. He's an old college chum of mine, and an awfully good sort; I don't know why Evie doesn't have him."

"Oh, yes, you do," rejoined Jill sagely. "And so you thought you would let Mr Markham see that you were married and out of the runnings, you conceited old humbug; and that's why he laughed so much, and was so very polite to me. He'll send us a wedding present, Jack, I feel convinced of that."

"You've always got your eye open for the main chance," observed St.

John, "and ought to make a good business woman. You'll be pondering the intrinsic value of that present within half-an-hour. Personally, I shall be thoroughly satisfied if I hear that he wins Evie."

Jill looked up at him swiftly, and slipped her hand into his with a smile.

"I don't mind who wins Evie now," she said, "but I was horribly anxious once. I don't believe that I really felt quite safe until this little gold band was placed on my finger, and then I knew that not even Miss Bolton could take you away from me."

"Possession is only nine-tenths of the law," interposed St. John; but he squeezed the small hand lovingly, lying so confidingly in his, so that, feeling the pressure, and meeting his earnest gaze, Jill was too thoroughly happy even to retort.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Mr St. John, Senior's, wrath knew no bounds when he received his son's note and learnt that he had taken the irrevocable step and actually married the art mistress. He pa.s.sed the letter on to his niece with Thompkins and Co.'s card, and turned away from the lunch-table too disgusted to eat his food. Evie Bolton took things more quietly. She had realised her defeat from the first, and accepted it as she did the announcement of her cousin's marriage with a composure that did more credit to her head than to her heart. She read the letter through without comment, and studied the card. Then she looked up with a little laugh.

"How funny," she said. "I will go and have my photograph taken there."

Mr St. John said nothing. He just wheeled about shortly and left the room, but when he got outside his language was more forcible than polite, and he kicked Miss Bolton's pet pug right across the hall. For the first time he saw the heiress with his son's eyes.

"Jack is a fool," mused Miss Bolton complacently, tapping the pasteboard in a meditative fashion. "He will hate it all three months hence, and then they will quarrel horribly. A photographer indeed! What possessed him, I wonder?"

When Miss Bolton flippantly observed that she intended having her photograph taken at Thompkins and Co.'s, she did not mean it seriously; for she had not considered the matter, and only spoke upon impulse.

Some months later, however, the idea returning to her mind, she determined, after thinking it over for a little while, to act upon it, and judge for herself how Jack adapted himself to his changed circ.u.mstances.

It was characteristic of her that she should don her richest attire for the occasion, and drive there in style instead of going in the quietest and most un.o.btrusive manner; and it was also characteristic that on arriving and entering the shop she should haughtily demand to see Mr St. John, entirely ignoring Jill, who, on her entry, had risen from her seat at the desk, and now in her usual philosophic manner walked quietly out of the shop to call her husband St. John was in the studio endeavouring to snap an infant in its vest, and only succeeding in making it howl. He was looking worried and annoyed, and welcomed Jill's advent with relief.

"You are better at this kind of thing than I am," he said in an aside to her; "just see if you can pacify the little beast."

"All right," answered Jill shortly. "You can go and do the agreeable to Evie Bolton; she's in the shop waiting to see you."

St. John whistled, and the infant stopped yelling to listen; it was noted for its love of music.

"How jolly nice of her," he cried. "Perhaps she'll stay and have tea with us."

"Perhaps she won't," Jill answered rather bitterly; but St. John was not paying any attention; he was busy adjusting the collar of his coat, and failed to detect the chagrin in his wife's tone and manner. Jill turned her back on him quickly to hide her annoyance, and walked over to make friends with the baby, while St. John, unconscious that anything was amiss, strode through the studio into the shop where Evie Bolton awaited him. She turned at his entry and advanced to greet him, recognising with a little pang of envy as she did so, what a fine, manly, handsome fellow this cousin of hers was. St. John, too, realised for the first time how very pretty and stylish Evie was. When he had lived with stylish women he had not noticed these things, now that his lot was cast among the working-cla.s.ses, he perceived and appreciated the difference.

His glance rested on Miss Bolton's well groomed prettiness with a kind of tired relief, and the sordidness of his own surroundings became more apparent.

"It is good of you to look us up," he cried. "I half feared that I was going to get the cold shoulder altogether."

He had taken the girl's outstretched hand in both of his, and now looked into her eyes with a smile of pleased grat.i.tude. Evie smiled back.

"You should never have thought that of me," she said. "You might have known I would come eventually. If uncle hadn't been so furious about it I should have come sooner, but I had to use my discretion and wait. The first time I suggested a visit he flung out of the room in a temper. I fear you have done for yourself, dear, so far as your father is concerned."

St. John looked moody, and seeing his change of countenance, she hastened to turn the subject.

"Jack," she said, "I am awfully low-spirited--I suppose I have missed you rather. I want you to take me out to tea somewhere and cheer me up if you can."

St. John swallowed the bait. The idea of a diversion was pleasing to him, and the knowledge that he had been missed gratified his vanity.

"Dear little girl, of course I will," he answered. "I'll just go and put it all right with Thompkins, and then I'll be at your service.

Jill's in the studio. You saw her though, didn't you?"

Miss Bolton flushed.

"Ye-es," she answered hesitatingly, "for a minute. Make haste, Jack dear; I am so impatient to be off. While you are gone I will look at these abominable photographs. I meant to let you take mine to-day, but I object to being caricatured."

"You must let Jill paint you," he said, "She's first cla.s.s at portrait painting and would like to get some customers."

"One day," the girl answered vaguely, "perhaps I will."

St. John hurried out, and Miss Bolton turned with languid interest to inspect the portraits round the walls. When her cousin returned he discovered her intently scrutinising a cabinet photograph of Mr Markham.

"What a libel," she cried holding it up. "This is your handiwork, I should imagine. When did you take it?"

"Oh! I don't know," he answered carelessly, "Jill took it one day. She has taken him lots of times; he often calls in."

Evie's eyebrows went up with a show of surprise.

"Is he a friend of--Mrs St. John?" she asked.

"I suppose so; Jill likes him. He and I were always rather chummy, and he drops in in to talk about--oh! well, about old times and--friends, you know."

"He never told me," she rejoined slowly. "I saw him yesterday and he mentioned very casually that he met you recently; he did not say that he was intimate here."

"Perhaps he didn't think that it would interest you," he suggested. "Or he might have thought the subject tabooed."

"With me?" she cried. "Impossible! I am always talking about you."

"Very flattering of you, my dear Evie," he laughingly rejoined, "but you'll never persuade me that you are so one idead."

Miss Bolton put the photograph back in its place, and turned towards the entrance with an evident desire to get away.

"I am," she said. "I've only got one idea at present and that's tea.

Don't let us waste more time, Jack, but come along at once."

"It's an awful pity Jill can't come with us," he remarked as he followed her out, "but we couldn't both leave together."

"Yes," acquiesced Evie, none too heartily, "it is a pity. Never mind she sees plenty of you now and I don't. She can't begrudge me a few hours now and then. I am seriously thinking of getting married myself, Jack; it is so deadly dull since you went."

Thinking of Markham, St. John looked pleased.

"Why don't you?" he asked.

"I am going to," she answered settling herself in a corner of the carriage with an airy laugh. "I am looking about for a t.i.tle."

"Oh!" observed St. John disapprovingly, "I shouldn't bother about that.