'You shall be quite moderate,' she pleaded speciously, but insincerely. She was relieved at the form of his objection; she had feared worse. His brow, too, cleared a little. 'Is there really any philosophy in it, Peggy?' he asked in a humorous puzzle. 'You liked it. You know you enjoyed it this morning.' 'That was for--well, I hope for somebody else.' 'Do try it--just this once,' she implored. He abandoned himself to her persuasion; had not that been his bargain for the day? The hansom was called into service again. First to Panting's--where Airey's coat gave a shock such as the establishment had not experienced for many a day--then to other high-class shops. Into some of these Peggy did not accompany him. She would point to a note and say, 'Not more than half the change out of that,' or 'No change at all out of that.' When Airey came out she watched eagerly to see how profound would be the shopman's bow, how urgent his entreaty that he might be honoured by further favours. It is said that the rumour of a new millionaire ran through the London of trade that day. 'Are you liking it, Airey?' She was nearly at an end of her invention when she put the question. He would give her no answer. 'Have you anywhere else you want to go?' She thought hard. He turned to her smiling: 'Positively I will not become the owner of a grand piano.' A brilliant idea flashed on her--obvious as soon as discovered, like all brilliant ideas: 'Why, you'll have nothing decent to carry them in when you go visiting!' A sudden sense of ludicrousness overcame Airey; he lay back in the cab and laughed. Was the idea of visiting so ludicrous? Or was it the whole thing? And Peggy's anxious seriousness alternating with fits of triumphant vivacity? All through the visit to the trunk-maker's Airey laughed. 'I can't think of anything else--though there's a note left,' she said with an air of vexed perplexity. 'You're absolutely gravelled, are you?' he asked. 'No, no, not the piano!' 'I'm finished,' she acknowledged sorrowfully. She turned to him with an outburst of gleefulness. 'Hasn't it been a wonderful day? Haven't we squandered, Airey?' 'We've certainly done ourselves very well,' said he. The cabman begged directions through the roof. 'I don't know,' murmured Peggy in smiling despair. 'Yes, yes,' she called, 'back to Danes Inn! Tea and bread-and-butter, Airey!' He took the key of his chambers from his pocket. 'You go and make tea. I'll be after you directly.' 'Have you thought of anything else?' she cried with a merry smile. 'I want to walk home and think about it,' said Airey. 'I sha'n't be long. Good-bye.' He recollected a trifle. 'Here's some money for the cab.' 'All that?' asked Peggy. 'He's sure we're mad already. Don't let's disturb his convictions,' Airey argued.