"Could you explain them to me?" she asked. "Not now, dear," he answered, "I feel very tired; I think I could go to sleep." Which utterance proved the commencement of another relapse; but Dolly was not dismayed, on the contrary she wrote the very next day to Lang and said, "Whenever Mr. Mortomley is well enough to leave town we shall go to a cottage I have taken in Hertfordshire. _All the special colours can now be made without difficulty._ There is a barn near the cottage which may be rented." That was sufficient for Lang. Within a week he had got leave of absence, and was on his way back to England. He saw the barn, he measured up its size, he made out a list of the articles necessary, and received sufficient money from Mrs. Mortomley to pay for them. He tried to get a fresh order from the firm that had wanted the new blue, but Mr. Miller shook his head. "We have had enough of dealing with Mr. Mortomley at second-hand," he said, "when he is in a position to come to us and enter into an arrangement personally, possibly we may be able to do business." Which was just--though he did not know it--as if he had said, "When Mr. Mortomley has been to the moon and comes back again, we will resume negotiations with him." "However, there is a trade to be done, ma'am," said Lang confidently, "and when I have finished my job, which will be in six weeks, I am thankful to say, for I am sick of the place and of those outlandish foreigners who can talk nothing but gibberish, we will do it." "We shall have to be content with small beginnings though," suggested Mrs. Mortomley, whose views were indeed of the most modest description. "And then at the end of a twelvemonth we shall not be ashamed to count our profits," agreed Lang, and he left assuring Dolly that his stay among the "mounseers," as he styled all persons who had not been privileged to first see the light in Great Britain, would be short as he could make it. He had set his heart upon being back in time to attend the final sale at Homewood; but if he was quick Mr. Swanland proved quicker, and before his return another act in the liquidation play was finished, and all the vats, coppers, mills, boilers, and other paraphernalia in which Mortomley's soul had once rejoiced were scattered to the four winds of Heaven. When Dolly saw the preliminary advertisements announcing that the extensive and valuable plant of a colour-maker would shortly be offered for sale, she lowered her flag so far as to write to Mr. Dean asking him to buy Black Bess.