clothed her brow.

'He has squared her,' thought Merton.

Indeed, the lady had warmly grasped his hand with both of her own, which
were imprisoned in tight new gloves, while her bonnet spoke of
regardlessness of expense and recent prodigality. She fell back into the
client's chair.

'Oh, sir,' she said, 'when first we met we did not part, or _I_ did
not--_you_ were quite the gentleman--on the best of terms. But now, how
can I speak of your wise advice, and how much don't I owe you?'

Merton answered very gravely: 'You do not owe me anything, Madam. Please
understand that I took absolutely no professional steps in your affair.'

'What?' cried Mrs. Nicholson. 'You did not send down that blessed young
man to the Perch?'

'I merely suggested that the inn might suit a person whom I knew, who was
looking for country quarters. Your name never crossed my lips, nor a
word about the business on which you did me the honour to consult me.'

'Then I owe you nothing?'

'Nothing at all.'

'Well, I do call this providential,' said Mrs. Nicholson, with devout
enthusiasm.