"Twenty guineas," amended Mr. Dean. "A friend of mine did pay him that very handsome amount for a sketch of a little girl which the purchaser imagined bore some resemblance to a deceased daughter of his own." "His model being Lenore, doubtless." "I should say most probably." Dolly did not answer. She sat for a minute or two looking out at the leaves littering the lawn, at the sodden earth, at the late blooming flowers beaten almost into the earth by reason of the violence of the rain--then she said, "And so they, Antonia and Rupert, go to those lodgings you spoke of?" "Yes, on Tuesday next, if Miss Halling can complete her preparations in the time." "Rats leave a sinking ship," murmured Mrs. Mortomley to herself. "I beg your pardon," observed Mr. Dean, not catching the drift of her pleasant sentence. "I said," explained Dolly, speaking very slowly and distinctly, "that rats leave a sinking ship. So the story goes at all events, and I, for one, see no reason to doubt its truthfulness. If you think of it, what more natural than that they should go. They are detestable creatures in prosperity. Why should they alter their natures in adversity?" "I am very stupid I fear," said Mr. Dean; "but I confess I fail to see the drift of your remark." "I can make it plain enough," she retorted. "Here are a man and a woman who must have starved unless we or you had provided them with the necessaries of life. It was not very pleasant for me to have Antonia Halling here, but she has had the best we could give her; and never a cross look or grudging word to mar her enjoyment of the good things of this life--things she prizes very highly. "As for Rupert, he has been treated by my husband as a brother or a son. We made no difference between them and Lenore, except that I have denied my child what she wanted sometimes, and they have never been denied. "And the end of it all is that when my husband's affairs go wrong, they leave us, and allow a stranger to break the tidings. That is why I call them rats, Mr. Dean--your _fiancée_ and her brother. I am sure heaven made Antonia Halling a helpmate--meet for you--for she is as selfish, as worldly, as calculating, and as cold as even Mr. Dean, of Elm Park." Having finished which explicit speech, Dolly rose and gathered her shawl more closely about her figure, bowed, and would have left the room had Mr. Dean not hindered her departure. "Mrs. Mortomley," he said, "I can make allowances for a lady placed as you are; but I beg leave to say you are utterly mistaken in your estimate of me."