"Where did you meet him?"
"Just as he was coming out of the C. P. R. ticket office. He was in a great hurry and had no time to stop and talk."
"You must find out where he is staying, Sammie, and invite him to come and see us. He is a very distinguished young man, you know; an artist of wide reputation, and it makes a favourable impression to have such a man visit us. He is a gentleman, and not like that uncouth man who committed that terrible crime at Creekdale."
"But I don't believe he'll be here long, Ma," Sammie replied.
"Why, what makes you think that?"
"I guess he's leaving the city. He must have been at the office getting his ticket when I met him. No doubt he is going on this evening's train."
"He is visiting some of the big cities, no doubt, Sammie. A man like that could not be expected to remain in a small place like this. People must be anxious to see the man who has painted such famous pictures."
"Have you seen any of them, Ma?" her son asked.
"Oh, no. But he has told me about them, and they must be great from what he said. He has sold a great many at large prices, but the most valuable he keeps in his mansion in England, so he informed me. He said that he regretted that he had not brought several with him, but the risk was too great, and the pictures were so big that it was difficult to transport them so far."
"H'm," Sammie grunted, as he went on with his luncheon, and nothing more was said then about the artist.