our friend Birching is an architect. He's in partnership with his
brother, a much older man. Well, they nave offered to take me into
their office if I pay a premium of fifty guineas. As soon as I can
qualify myself to be of use to them, they'll give me a salary. And I
shall have the chance of eventually doing much better than I ever
could at the old grind, where, in fact, I had no prospect whatever."

"That's very good news," Eve remarked, gazing across the street.

"You think I ought to accept?"

"I suppose you can pay the fifty guineas, and still leave yourself
enough to live upon?"

"Enough till I earn something," Hilliard answered with a smile.

"Then I should think there's no doubt."

"The question is this--are you perfectly willing to go back to
Birmingham?"

"I'm _anxious_ to go."

"You feel quite restored to health?"

"I was never so well in my life."

Hilliard looked into her face, and could easily believe that she
spoke the truth. His memory would no longer recall the photograph in
Mrs. Brewer's album; the living Eve, with her progressive changes of