waltz?'

'I have not heard, Mr--Bates.'

For once she looked to see the cheerful composure of the man upstairs
become ruffled; but he received the blow without agitation.

'You know my name?' he said.

'I know a good deal more than your name. You are a Glasgow
millionaire.'

'It's true,' he admitted, 'but it's hereditary. My father was one
before me.'

'And you use your money,' said Annette, bitterly, 'creating fools'
paradises for your friends, which last, I suppose, until you grow tired
of the amusement and destroy them. Doesn't it ever strike you, Mr
Bates, that it's a little cruel? Do you think Mr Sellers will settle
down again cheerfully to hack-work when you stop buying his pictures,
and he finds out that--that--'

'I shan't stop,' said the young man. 'If a Glasgow millionaire mayn't
buy Sellers' allegorical pictures, whose allegorical pictures may he
buy? Sellers will never find out. He'll go on painting and I'll go on
buying, and all will be joy and peace.'

'Indeed! And what future have you arranged for me?'

'You?' he said, reflectively. 'I want to marry you.'