A servant brought in a telegram.
“I telegraphed to her uncle first thing this morning,” said Mrs. Robinson, “to ask if she was with him. Now we shall hear what he says.”
She opened the envelope and spread out the contents.
“She’s not with him,” she said. “Then Dr. Giles, where is she? Where can she be?”
Later in the day we knew that Blanche had taken refuge in the Serpentine.
The two pets had fled together. She had made the way of escape easy for her weaker brother.
It was early in May. There was the usual crush at the Academy. I elbowed my way through the crowd to look at Serjeant’s majestic portrait of M. Near it on the line hung the picture of the goldfish.
A long-haired student and a little boy were staring at it.
“Mummy,” said the child, running to a beautifully dressed slender woman looking at the Serjeant, “I want a goldfish, too.”