“Have you any other name?”

“Yes; but it is a secret.  Why people should be plagued with two Christian names, I do not know.  No one would have believed in the motor if they had known that my name was Sebastian.”

“Sebastian!”

“Hush.  I was actually christened Edoardo Sebastiano Conolly.  My father used to spell his name Conollj whilst he was out of Italy.  I have frustrated the bounty of my godfathers by suppressing all but the sensible Edward Conolly.”

There was a pause.  Then Marian spoke.

“Do you intend to make our—­our engagement known at once?”

“I have considered the point; and as you are the person likely to be inconvenienced by its publication, I am bound to let you conceal it for the present, if you wish to.  It must transpire sometime:  the sooner the better.  You will feel uncomfortably deceitful with such a secret; and as for me, every time your father greets me cordially in the City I shall feel mean.  However, you can watch for your opportunity.  Let me know at once when the cat comes out of the bag.”

“I will.  I think, as you say, the right course is to tell at once.”

“Undoubtedly.  But from the moment you do so until we are married you will be worried by remonstrances, entreaties, threats, and what not; so that we cannot possibly make that interval too short.”

“We must take Nelly into our confidence.  You will not object to that?”

“Certainly not.  I like Miss McQuinch.”

“You really do!  Oh, I am so glad.  Well, we are accustomed to go about together, especially to picture galleries.  We can come to the Academy as often as we like; and you can come as often as you like, can you not?”

“Opening day, for instance.”

“Yes, if you wish.”

“Let us say between half-past four and five, then.  I would willingly be here when the doors open in the morning; but my business will not do itself while I am philandering and making you tired of me before your time.  The consciousness of having done a day’s work is necessary to my complete happiness.”

“I, too, have my day’s work to do, silly as it is.  I have to housekeep, to receive visitors, to write notes about nothing, and to think of the future.  We can say half-past four or any later hour that may suit you.”

“Agreed.  And now, Marian——­”

“Dont let me disturb you,” said Miss McQuinch, at his elbow, to Marian; “but Mrs. Leith Fairfax will be here with Sholto Douglas presently; and I thought you might like to have an opportunity of avoiding him.  How do you do, Mr. Conolly?”

“I must see him sooner or later,” said Marian, rising.  “Better face him at once and get it over.  I will go back by myself and meet them.”  Then, with a smile at Conolly, she went out through the door leading to the water-color gallery.

“Marian does not stand on much ceremony with you, Mr. Conolly,” said Miss McQuinch, glancing at him.