"Yes, I think you would be thorough in all you did," he said, "and certainly, whatever your line was, I should 'pick you up' first, as schoolboys say, to be on my side." "Ah! I am certainly on your side," said she. "Now, what have you done with yourself all day? I like to hear always exactly what people have done. A few weeks of what people have done gives you the complete key to their character." "Is that why you ask?" said he. "No, because I know your character. I ask merely from interest in you." "Well, I rode before breakfast," said he, "and got down to the city about half-past ten. I worked till half-past two, dull work rather--but, by-the-bye, hold on to your East Rand Mining, I think they are going better--then I ate three sandwiches and a piece of cake; then I sat to Evelyn for two hours, then I went round to see Madge, dressed, dined, and didn't think much of the play." "And your portrait?" asked Lady Ellington. "Is it good?" "Ah! all he does is good," said Philip. "A man like that cannot do a bad thing. But it is more than good. It's Mary Jane's top-note." "I thought Madge was his top-note," said Lady Ellington. "Well, I think he has gone a semitone higher," said he. "Of course I am the worst person to judge, but it seems to me that he is even more sure in this than he was in her portrait. Haven't you seen it?" Lady Ellington was quite quick enough to catch at this. "No, but I should so much like to," she said. "Do you think he would let me see it?" "I'm sure he would." Philip paused a moment. "Send him a note, or I will," he said. "I shouldn't go to-morrow, if I were you, because I know he is busy." "Ah! what a pity," said Lady Ellington, lowering her voice a little. "I have nothing to do to-morrow afternoon." "I know he is busy," repeated Philip. "He told me so." "And Madge's portrait," she said, "when shall we see that? It is quite finished, is it not?" Suddenly the preposterous idea occurred to Philip that he was being pumped. No doubt it was only Madge's rather ridiculous request that her mother should not know that she was going to sit again that suggested it, but still it was there. On this point also he had given his promise to her, and he went warily in this time of trouble. "I fancy he is going to work a little more at it," he said, anxious to tell the truth as far as possible. "Indeed, he told me so to-day. But he said that if I sent for it in a couple of days it would be ready for me to take." It was quite clear, therefore--indeed, the letter that had so providentially come into her hands told her that--that Philip knew that Madge was going to sit again to-morrow. The letter anyhow had told her that she was going to sit again; Philip's suggestion that she herself should not go to see his portrait to-morrow was quite sufficiently confirmatory of the rest. He had not told her, it is true, that Madge was going to do this, but it would answer her purpose well enough. There was only one thing more to ask.