"How romantic! Do you mean that he belongs to that old family of New
England Kings?"

"He is the last of them. His father was Aaron King--a prominent lawyer
and politician in his state."

"Oh, yes! I remember! Wasn't there something whispered at the time of his
death--some scandal that was hushed up--money stolen--or something? What
was it? I can't think."

"Whatever it was, Mrs. Taine, the son had nothing to do with it. Don't you
think we might let the dead man stay safely buried?" There was an ominous
glint in Conrad Lagrange's eyes.

Mrs. Taine answered hurriedly, "Indeed, yes, Mr. Lagrange. You are right.
And you shall bring Mr. King out to see me. If he is as nice as he looks,
I promise you I will be very good to him. Perhaps I may even help him a
little, through Jim, you know--bring him in touch with the right people
and that sort of thing. What does he paint?"

"Portraits." The novelist's tone was curt.

"Then I am _sure_ I could do a great deal for him."

"And I am sure you would do a great deal _to_ him," said Conrad Lagrange,
bluntly.

She laughed again. "And just what do you mean by that, Mr. Lagrange? I'm
not sure whether it is complimentary or otherwise."