"Breakfast for three," said Mr. Ingelow, whipping off the silver covers. "Set chairs, Sam. Now, then, ladies, I intended to breakfast down at the restaurant; but the temptation to take my matinal meal in such fair company was not to be resisted. I didn't try to resist it, and--here we are!" Mollie sat beside him, too pretty to tell, and smiling like an angel. At Seventeen, one night is enough to make us as happy as a seraph. For golden-haired, blue-eyed Mollie earth held no greater happiness, just then, than to sit by Hugh Ingelow's side and bask in the light of his smile. "Delightfully suggestive all this, eh?" said the artist, helping his fair neighbor bountifully. And Mollie blushed "celestial, rosy red." "What comes next?" she asked. "After breakfast--what then?" "That is for Mistress Mollie to decide." "I am not to go home until this evening?" "Not if you wish to give unlucky Oleander his _coup de gráce_. Poor devil! I pity him, too. If you intend to make your _entree_ like the ghost of Banquo at the feast, you can't appear, of course, until evening." "Must I stay here all day?" "Will it be so very hard?" with an eloquent glance. "I shall be here." "No, no!" Mollie said, hastily, blushing and laughing. "It would be light penance, in any case; to spend a day here, after a fortnight down yonder. What I mean is, I might improve the time by going to see Miriam." "If you wait, Miriam may improve the time by coming to see you." "No! What does she know about your studio?" "Heaps!" said Mr. Ingelow, coolly. "It isn't the first time ladies have come to my studio." "I know; but Miriam--" "It isn't the first time for Miriam, either." Mollie opened wide her eyes. "I protest, Mr. Ingelow, I didn't know you were acquainted with her at all." "Which proves you are not _au fait_ of all my lady acquaintances. But, to solve the riddle, it was Miriam who first came here and put me on your track." The blue eyes opened wider. "You see," said Mr. Ingelow, with the air of one entering upon a story, "she knew about your appointment that night, and was at the place of rendezvous, all silent and unseen. She saw you go off in the carriage with that man, and took it into her head that something was wrong. She called at Mr. Walraven's that day, and found you were missing--no tale nor tidings to be had of you. Then, what does she do but come to me?" Mr. Ingelow looked full at the young lady as he spoke, and once more Mollie was silly enough to blush. "I really don't know how it was," pursued Mr. Ingelow, with provoking deliberation, "but Madame Miriam had taken it into her head that I was the man you had gone to meet. Extraordinary, wasn't it? She thought so, however, and was taken all aback to find me quietly painting here."