"Here's somebody who can tell us," she exclaimed. "I'll explain to him. . . . I'm buying suits for three little boys--Sunday suits, for church and Sunday school, you know--I want them plain and serviceable so that by and bye they won't look funny for school--_you_ know; well, would they like coats and waistcoats, or a Norfolk--which do you think?" "Coats and waistcoats," said Eloquent promptly, his eyes still glued to her face. "Why?" asked the lady. "Because you can take off your coat, and _then_ you're in your shirt-sleeves." "But aren't you in your shirt-sleeves when you take off a Norfolk?" "No," said Eloquent, "_then_ you're in your shirt." The lady laughed. Mr Gallup laughed. The assistants, who had not heard, for Eloquent spoke very low, sniggered sympathetically, and the other customers frowned. "That settles it," said the lady, "and I'm very much obliged to you. I'll have the three little grey suits with coats and waistcoats. Poor little chaps, their mother died just a fortnight ago, and they've nothing tidy." "My mother's dead," Eloquent announced abruptly. The lady's eyes had been so soft, her face so tender and full of pity as she said, "poor little chaps," he felt a sudden spasm of jealousy. He wanted her to look at him like that. He did not see his father's start, nor the momentary pained contraction of his cheerful features. Eloquent's eyes were fixed on the lady's face, and sure enough he got what he wanted. "I'm so sorry," she said simply, and she looked it; she had turned her kind eyes full upon him, eyes wide apart and grey and limpid. He edged still nearer to her; so near that he stood upon her white dress with his dusty little boots, and still he stared unblinkingly. The young lady looked puzzled. Why did the child regard her so fixedly? She suddenly awoke to the fact that everyone in the shop was looking at her. Even Mr Gallup, on the other side of the counter, seemed suddenly stricken by inertia, and instead of putting up the little suits in paper, was staring at the pair of them. Then Eloquent was moved to explain. "I've never seen anybody look like you before," he said gravely, "and I like watching you." "Thank you," said the lady, and she patted his cheek. She laughed. Mr Gallup laughed, and came back to the affairs of the Golden Anchor, busying himself in tying up her parcel, while he explained that Eloquent was his only child. Eloquent did not laugh, for she was going away. Dada carried the parcel to the shop door and gave it to the footman. He put it in the carriage, and held out a thin silken cloak for the lady, which she put on. He covered her knees with a linen dust rug, and smiling and bowing she drove away. Eloquent turned back into the shop with his father. It seemed to have got very dark and gloomy again. "Dada," he asked, "who is that lady?" "That," said Mr Gallup, loudly and with no little pride, "is Mrs Ffolliot of Redmarley, the bride."