"Well, you haven't made exactly a success of it, have you?" The manner was kinder than the words. "And I didn't make exactly a success of my marriage either," Winnie reflected, in a puzzled dolefulness. Because, if both orthodoxy and unorthodoxy go wrong, what is a poor human woman to do? "Well, if I mayn't go to Shaylor's Patch--at present, anyhow--I must stay here, Mrs. Lenoir; that's all. The studio's in my name, because I could give better security than Godfrey, and I can stay if I want to." "Not very cheerful--and only that dirty old Irishwoman to do for you!" "Oh, please don't abuse Mrs. O'Leary. She's my one consolation." Mrs. Lenoir looked at her with something less than her usual self-confidence. It was in a decidedly doubtful and tentative tone that she put her question: "I couldn't persuade you to come and put up with me--in both senses--for a bit?" Winnie was surprised and touched; to her despairing mood any kindness was a great kindness. "That's really good of you," she said, pressing Mrs. Lenoir's hand for a moment. "It's--merciful." "I'm an old woman now, my dear, and most of my cronies are getting old too. Still, some young folks look in now and then. We aren't at all gay; but you'll be comfortable, and you can have a rest while you look about you." There was a trace of the explanatory, of the reassuring, about Mrs. Lenoir's sketch of her home life. "What's good enough for you is good enough for me, you know," Winnie remarked, with a smile. "Oh, I'm not so sure! Oh, I'm not speaking of creature comforts and so on. But you seem to me to expect so much of--of everybody." Winnie took the hand she had pressed and held it. "And you?" she asked. "Never mind me. You're young and attractive. Don't go on expecting too much. They take what they can." "They? Who?" "Men," said Mrs. Lenoir. Then out of those distant, thoughtful, no longer very bright eyes flashed for an instant the roguish twinkle for which she had once been famous. "I've given them as good as I got, though," said she. "And now--will you come?" Winnie laughed. "Well, do you think I should prefer this empty tomb?" she asked. Yes--empty and a tomb--apt words for what the studio now was. "You weren't as nice as this at Shaylor's Patch--though you always said things that made me think." "They've all got their heads in the air at Shaylor's Patch--dear creatures!" "I shall enjoy staying with you. Is it really convenient?" Mrs. Lenoir smiled. "Oh, but that's a silly question, because I know you meant it. When may I come?" "Not a moment later than this afternoon." "Well, the truth is I didn't fancy sleeping here again. I expect I should have gone to Shaylor's Patch." Again Mrs. Lenoir smiled. "You're full of pluck, but you're scarcely hard enough, my dear. If I'm a failure, Shaylor's Patch will do later, won't it?" "I shall disgrace you. I've nothing to wear. We were--I'm very poor, you know."