you would like to have some explanation of my motive in precipitating
Don Ippolito upon you in this way, when I told you only yesterday that
he wouldn't do at all; in fact I think myself that I've behaved rather
fickle-mindedly--for a representative of the country. But I'll tell
you; and you won't be surprised to learn that I acted from mixed
motives. I'm not at all sure that he'll do; I've had awful misgivings
about it since I left him, and I'm glad of the chance to make a clean
breast of it. When I came to think the matter over last night, the fact
that he had taught himself English--with the help of an Irishman for
the pronunciation--seemed to promise that he'd have the right sort of
sympathy with your scheme, and it showed that he must have something
practical about him, too. And here's where the selfish admixture comes
in. I didn't have your interests solely in mind when I went to see Don
Ippolito. I hadn't been able to get rid of him; he stuck in my thought.
I fancied he might be glad of the pay of a teacher, and--I had half a
notion to ask him to let me paint him. It was an even chance whether I
should try to secure him for Miss Vervain, or for Art--as they call it.
Miss Vervain won because she could pay him, and I didn't see how Art
could. I can bring him round any time; and that's the whole
inconsequent business. My consolation is that I've left you perfectly
free. There's nothing decided."

"Thanks," said Mrs. Vervain; "then it's all settled. You can bring him
as soon as you like, to our new place. We've taken that apartment we
looked at the other day, and we're going into it this afternoon. Here's
the landlord's letter," she added, drawing a paper out of her pocket.
"If he's cheated us, I suppose you can see justice done. I didn't want
to trouble you before."

"You're a woman of business, Mrs. Vervain," said Ferris. "The man's a