"I'm quite well, thankin' you, sir, and the same to you. I wanted to consult Evarne on a matter of great himportance. I've got to decide in a 'urry, or I wouldn't 'ave hintruded."
"Well, here is Evarne. I'll leave you for a while."
"Don't go, Geoff," said the girl, laying her hand on his arm. "I don't suppose it's any great and wondrous secret, is it, Philia?"
"Not a bit of it. Jist after you'd gorn comes a letter for me from that very nice gentleman, Mr. Topham—the same as I sat for six months ago as the Countess o' Suffolk, saying as 'ow she wouldn't 'ave 'er 'ead cut off."
"I remember."
"Well, now—well. What do you think? You'd never guess! 'E wants me to go to Scotland for two 'ole months to pose for 'im out of doors all among the gorse and 'eather and 'eath! It's a bit o' kindness on Mr. Topham's part, for I s'pose there's elderly ladies in Scotland 'e could paint, but 'e allus was good to me. I'm to telegraph me answer and go on Thursday mornin'. I'd like to go ever so much—wouldn't I jist, my gosh!—but I'm worryin' about 'ow you'd git on without me, Evarne."
"Oh, you ought not to miss such a splendid offer. Let me see the letter, may I?"
After glancing through its contents the girl handed it back.
"She really ought to go, Geoff, oughtn't she? Mr. Topham offers very generous terms, including the fare both ways. She needs a change. Don't you, Philia? It will be splendid for you to get out of London this hot weather. I only wish a holiday could be managed for poor little Evarne. Yes, I decide for you—you must accept."
"That's all very fine for me," demurred the old woman; "but what about you, left all alone in the 'ouse?"