'I believe,' said the novelist, 'that he had a clever daughter who used to do all the work he signed. That used to be a current bit of scandal in Fadge's circle.'

'Oh, there was much exaggeration in that,' remarked Jasper, blandly. 'His daughter assisted him, doubtless, but in quite a legitimate way. One used to see her at the Museum.'

An hour and a half later, when the last stranger had taken his leave, Jasper examined two or three letters which had arrived since dinner-time and were lying on the hall table. With one of them open in his hand, he suddenly sprang up the stairs and leaped, rather than stepped, into the drawing-room. Amy was reading an evening paper.

'Look at this!' he cried, holding the letter to her.

It was a communication from the publishers who owned The Current; they stated that the editorship of that review would shortly be resigned by Mr Fadge, and they inquired whether Milvain would feel disposed to assume the vacant chair.

Amy sprang up and threw her arms about her husband's neck, uttering a cry of delight.

'So soon! Oh, this is great! this is glorious!'

'Do you think this would have been offered to me but for the spacious life we have led of late? Never! Was I right in my calculations, Amy?'