barnabas,” said miss mason one day—it was the fourteenth of october—“what’s the matter with paul?”

she was in barnabas’ studio when she put the question.

“ah,” said barnabas, “you’ve seen it too.”

“one must be blind not to see it,” said miss mason. “i felt something was wrong before i went away, and since i’ve been back i’ve been sure of it.”

for a moment barnabas did not reply. “i know part,” he said after a minute, “and the rest i can guess. you know he has lost a good bit of money?”

“humpt!” said miss mason. “i didn’t know. so that’s the trouble.”

“partly,” said barnabas. “i think the other part is the duchessa.”

“you mean——?” said miss mason.

“paul was in love with her,” said barnabas.

miss mason looked at him. then she nodded her head two or three times. she suddenly realized that the duchessa, who used frequently to [pg 288]come to the courtyard, had not been there during the last three weeks of july, nor during this first fortnight in october. of august and september she had, of course, no record.

“i see,” she said.

“i think,” went on barnabas, “that if this money loss had not intervened they would have followed the example of aurora and alan.”

“she cared for him then?” asked miss mason.

“i have never seen two people more in love with each other,” said barnabas. “they evidently did not wish, at the moment, to make the fact public. but seeing them together, as i occasionally did, one must have been blind not to have realized it.”

“ah,” said miss mason. “then she is unhappy, too?”

“i have happened to meet her twice,” said barnabas. “she acts very well. but the spring of life has gone.”

“but she has money,” said miss mason. “surely——”

“if she marries again she loses every penny,” said barnabas. “i learned that quite by chance one day from charlton.”

miss mason made a curious sound with her tongue. it can only be described as clucking.

“the world,” she said, “can be curiously contrary at times. i’m very glad i asked you.”

then she went back to her studio and sat down for a long time in her big arm-chair to think.

and the three fates watched her. for when miss mason sat in her chair with just that particular expression on her face, it meant that she was not over-pleased with their weaving, and that she wished to unravel and re-weave their latest pattern to a fashion more according to their mind. and the three fates looked at each other, and they nodded their three old heads, and waited with amusement in their eyes to see what she would do. as a matter of fact they had made this particular bit of muddle in their weaving on purpose that she might have the pleasure of putting it straight.

but it was a bit of straightening about which miss mason felt a trifle nervous. her fingers itched to be at the threads, unravelling and untwisting the knots, yet somehow she felt a little frightened to begin.

it was quite three hours before she made up her mind. then she suddenly crossed to her writing-table and wrote a letter to mr. davis who had rooms in gray’s inn. in the letter she stated that she wished to see him at eleven o’clock precisely the following morning on urgent business.

and as she folded and sealed the letter the three fates laughed. for miss mason had put her fingers on the first knot.

“it is,” said mr. davis, “a most unusual proceeding.”

it was twelve o’clock on the following morning.he had been talking to miss mason for an hour, or rather she had been talking, and it was the third time that he had made the above statement.

“all the same,” said miss mason firmly, “it is my wish. and i understand that i have absolute control over my capital.”

“absolute,” said mr. davis regretfully, looking at her with a kind of mild protest through his spectacles.

“very well, then,” she went on, “have the deeds, or whatever you call them, drawn up immediately. i will come down to your office the day after to-morrow to sign them. i shall bring them away with me, and post them to you the moment i wish the matter put in full train. is everything perfectly clear?”

“perfectly,” said mr. davis. “of course, if there had been trustees——”

“but there aren’t, thank goodness,” said miss mason. “remember, ten o’clock friday morning i’ll be with you.”

mr. davis found himself dismissed; and he left the studio wondering how a woman who eighteen months ago did not know how to fill up a cheque should suddenly have become so remarkably decided regarding business matters, and utterly refuse to listen to common-sense statements on his part.

as soon as he had gone miss mason wrote to sara.

“my dear duchessa,” she wrote, “will you do [pg 291]an old woman a favour and come to tea with her on friday next at four o’clock. i want to see you on a particular matter. if you are engaged on friday will you very kindly appoint some other hour on which you can come to see me.

“yours very sincerely,

“olive mason.”

she sent the note by sally, telling her to wait for an answer. in half an hour sally returned with it. miss mason opened it with fingers a little shaky from anxiety. she read it slowly.

“my dear aunt olive.—thank you for your letter. i will be with you on friday next at four o’clock. my love to you and pippa. i hope you both enjoyed your holiday in devonshire.

“very sincerely yours,

“sara di corleone.”

it had cost sara something to write that letter. it would bring back memories of joy and pain for her again to enter the courtyard.