Mr. Heatherbloom, standing with the light of the window falling pensively upon him, she didn’t seem to see at all; he had once more become a nullity.  He rather preferred that role, however; perhaps he felt it was easier to impersonate annihilation, in the inception, than to have it, or a wish for it, thrust later too strongly upon him.

“I adhere to my opinion that he sold Naughty.  I should never have employed this man,” asserted Miss Van Rolsen, fastening her fiery eyes on Mr. Heatherbloom.  “Why don’t you speak, my dear, and give me your opinion?” To her niece.

“I haven’t any, Aunt.”

“You are discerning; you have judgment.”  Miss Van Rolsen spoke almost hysterically.  “Remember he”—­pointing a finger—­“came without our knowing anything about him.”

Miss Dalrymple did not stir; a bunch of bizarre-looking orchids on her gown moved to her even rhythmical breathing.  “What was he?  Who was he?  Maybe, nothing more than—­” She paused for want of breath, not of words, to characterize her opinion of Mr. Heatherbloom.

He readjusted his posture.  It was very bright outdoors; people went by briskly, full of life and importance; children whirled along on roller skates.

“When I asked your opinion, my dear, as to the wisdom of having employed this person in the first place, under the circumstances, why did you keep silent?” Was Miss Van Rolsen still talking, or rambling on to the impervious beautiful girl?  “You should have called me foolish, eccentric; yes, that’s what I was, to have taken him in as I did.”

Miss Dalrymple raised her brows and moved to a piano to adjust the flowers in a vase; she smiled at them with soft enigmatic lips.

“If I may venture an opinion, Madam,” observed Mr. Heatherbloom in a far-away voice, “I should say Naughty will surely return, or be returned.”

“You venture an opinion!” said Miss Van Rolsen.  “You!”

Miss Dalrymple breathed the fragrance of the flowers; she apparently liked it.

“You are discharged!” said Miss Van Rolsen violently to Mr. Heatherbloom.  “I give you the two-weeks’ notice agreed upon.”

“I’ll waive the notice,” suggested the young man at the window quickly.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort.”  Sharply.  “It’ll take me that time to find another incompetent keeper for them.  And, meanwhile, you may be sure,” grimly, “you will be very well watched.”

“Under the circumstances, I should prefer—­since you have discharged me—­to leave at once.”

“Your preferences are a matter of utter indifference.  You were employed with a definite understanding in this regard.”

Mr. Heatherbloom gazed rather wildly out of the window; two weeks.—­that much longer!  He was about to say he would not be well watched; he would take himself off—­that she couldn’t keep him; but paused.  A contract was a contract, though orally made; she could hold him yet a little.  But why did she wish to?  He had not calculated upon this; he tried to think but could not.  He looked from the elder to the younger woman.  The latter did not look at him.