"I say, you know about your wife's aunt, I suppose?" said Turquand. "What do you think of her?"
"She has left the Walfords, you mean? Who told you?"
"Miss Wix told me. But I didn't mean that departure; I meant her other one."
"Not heard of any other departure of the lady's. What? Where's she gone?"
"She has gone to journalism," said Turquand, with a grin; "the fair Miss Wix is a full-blown journalist! Don't your wife's people know? She's keeping it dark then. She came to see me, and said her income was slightly inadequate, and she 'thought she could do some writing.' Wanted to know if I could put her in the way of anything."
"Get out!" scoffed Kent. "Did she really come to see you, though? Very improper of her!"
"Oh, Miss Wix and I always took to each other. I think she dislikes me less than anybody she knows. I'm not kidding you; it's true, honour bright."
"What, that she's writing?"
Turquand nodded. His face was preternaturally solemn, but his eyes twinkled.
"I got her the work," he said; "it just happened I knew of a vacancy."