“Kate Ormsby never had imagination,” said she--“she does not realize how greatness crowds out the memory.” Lovegood smiled sadly: “She sings for money at tavern doors now,” he said--“and she was such a dainty creature!” “Yes--I suppose you gave her your last half-crown, Eustace!” The big man put out a deprecating hand: “You exaggerate, Caroline; I lent her a florin----” She nodded: “And so there was no lunch to day--and will be no dinner!” “Pray do not exaggerate, Caroline. I wish you would not exaggerate.... I shall not regale at a restaurant--that is all.... Look at the potentiality of satisfaction in the homely bun!... As a matter of fact, I think the moderns eat too much flesh----” “Tut!” said Caroline Baddlesmere--“don’t make excuses to your own conscience.... But you want to say something, Eustace--I know by the way you are fiddling with other subjects. Do say it like a good fellow.” Lovegood coughed: “Yes--the fact is--I--have--in my room--an old chippendale writing-table. It belonged to an eighteenth-century ancestor who wrote the most execrable verse. You remember the modest piece of furniture?” A twinkle shot into Caroline’s eyes: “Well, since you press the question, Eustace, there _is_ a piece of furniture in your room.” “It is grown somewhat shabby,” he resumed--“and a friend of mine who has long had a great fancy for it----” “Yes,” said Caroline slyly--“what was your friend’s name, did you say?” “Oh--ah--yes--his name is Gordon.” Caroline nodded: “Yes,” said she--“I suspected it was your uncle, Eustace--his Christian name is, I think, Isaac.” The big man chuckled: “Do you know, now I come to think of it, his Christian name _is_ Isaac,” he said.... “He has long had a fancy for it. I called in just now as I passed, and told him he might have it.... It will give me more room----” “Oh, yes--it _will_ give you more room,” said Caroline dryly. “Go on, Eustace.” “Yes,” said he--“I detest to feel cramped. And I thought--as an old friend--I might be permitted to suggest that--as you might want a little loose cash on changing houses----” Caroline Baddlesmere stamped her foot: “I am exceedingly angry with you, Eustace. You had no right to sell an heirloom,” she said furiously. “Your room is a positive disgrace of emptiness as it is.” She made an effort to keep her voice steady.... “It is quite bare and homeless enough to make me miserable every time I think of it.” Lovegood touched her arm: “Well, it’s done now,” he said pathetically--“and unless you take the money I don’t quite see how I am to proceed in the matter--without thwarting my original intention----” he added fatuously. “I shall go and have the whole bargain cancelled,” she said. “Hush! Caroline; I don’t think it would be quite a proper place for a gentlewoman to be seen in--upon my word----” “Who is the pawnbroker?” she asked bluntly. Lovegood coughed: