"I guess," said Bud, in his quiet, little old-man way, "I'm the one to

hev the say. I'm agoin' to give ma two dollars a week and bank the

rest."

Meanwhile John was having an uncomfortable time as he walked home with

Colette. He had started on the trail of the surplice the day before. The

"tenner" and the young ladies who had given the tableaux had been

interviewed, but in neither case had the mysterious pocket been

discovered. To-day he had visited the Beehive, but no one in the store

had paid any attention to the pocket, or knew of its existence. Colette

remained obdurate to his pleadings. She assumed that he was entirely to

blame for the loss, and seemed to take a gleeful delight in showing him

how perverse and wilful she could be. To-night he found himself less

able than usual to cope with her caprices, so he began to talk of

impersonal matters and dwelt upon the beauties of Bud's voice, and the

astonishing way in which it had developed.

She admitted that Bud's voice was indeed wonderful, but maintained that

Mrs. Jenkins's poppy hat and white gloves had been far surpassing in the

way of surprises.

"Did you ever, John, see anything more shoutingly funny?"

"It wasn't funny, Colette," he said wistfully, and he proceeded to

relate the history of the hat as he had heard it from the bishop that

day.

[Illustration: To-night he found himself less able than usual to cope

with her caprices] And though in the depths of her heart Colette was touched by the pathos

of the purchase, she must needs tread again the feminine labyrinth

instead of following the more natural and open path.

"Who was the young girl with the Boarder?" John next vouchsafed.

"Why, Lily Rose, of course. The Lily for whom he 'sot for his likeness

in the surplus.' That awful surplice," she burst forth in irritation at

the mere mention of the unfortunate word. "Some of these people must

have it. John, you don't half try to find it."

"I am following out the list in order," he assured her. "I shall go to

see Mrs. Hudgers to-morrow."

"And the next one to her," reminded Colette, "is Derry Phillips,

Amarilly's new benefactor. She told me to-day that she had a note from

him, asking her to begin work at the studio in a few days."

"I have a double duty in my call there," said John didactically. "If he

is like some of the young artists I know, his studio will hardly be a

proper place for Amarilly."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024