a price, which she left entirely to Mr. Ringsmith.

* * * * *

A few days later Mrs. Stillwell was writing to her boy at the Front when
Mr. MacTavish was announced. She is a slight, refined, gentle-looking
little lady, and rose from her chair with some embarrassment. She had
never had anything to do with gentlemen like Mr. MacTavish before, and
hardly knew whether she ought to shake hands with him or not; but she did
so with a gracious and slightly deprecating air. She felt she was under
an obligation to him for giving him so much trouble, and she disliked
very much being compelled to talk to him about selling her pictures.

"Won't you have a cup of tea, Mr. MacTavish?" she asked, not knowing
exactly what to say.

The tall Scotsman declined politely, and came straight to business.

"I've talked the matter over with Mr. Ringsmith, Mrs. Stillwell, and if
you're agreeable I am prepared to buy the three pictures for the firm."

Mrs. Stillwell half-rose from her chair.

"Oh, thank you very much, thank you very much!" she said hastily.

"Purely a matter of business, madam. You may not be aware that in these
times buying pictures is a somewhat dangerous operation."

"Oh, indeed! I didn't know."