’Perchawnce if we ’ad never met,
We ’ad been spared this mad regret,
This hendless striving to forget—­
For hever—­hand—­for he-e-e-ver!’

Mrs. Murch let her head droop sentimentally.  Horace glanced at Fanny, who, however, seemed absorbed in reflections as unsentimental as could be.

In the meanwhile, on a garden seat under the calm but misty sky, sat Luckworth Crewe and Beatrice French.  Crewe smoked a cigar placidly; Beatrice was laying before him the suggestion of her great commercial scheme, already confided to Fanny.

‘How does it strike you?’ she asked at length.

’Not bad, old chap.  There’s something in it, if you’re clever enough to carry it through.  And I shouldn’t wonder if you are.’  ’Will you help to set it going?’

‘Can’t help with money,’ Crewe replied.

’Very well; will you help in other ways?  Practical hints, and so on?’

’Of course I will.  Always ready to encourage merit in the money-making line.  What capital are you prepared to put into it?’

‘Not much.  The public must supply the capital.’

‘A sound principle,’ Crewe laughed.  ’But I shouldn’t go on the old lines.  You didn’t think of starting a limited company?  You’d find difficulties.  Now what you want to start is a—­let us call it the South London Dress Supply Association, or something of that kind.  But you won’t get to that all at once.  You ought to have premises to begin with.’

‘I’m aware of it.’

‘Can you raise a thousand or so?’

‘Yes, I could—­if I chose.’

’Now, look here.  Your notion of the Fashion Club is a deuced good one, and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be pretty easily started.  Out of every five hundred women, you can reckon on four hundred and ninety-nine being fools; and there isn’t a female fool who wouldn’t read and think about a circular which promised her fashionable dresses for an unfashionable price.  That’s a great and sound basis to start on.  What I advise is, that you should first of all advertise for a dress-making concern that would admit a partner with a small capital.  You’ll have between ten and twelve hundred replies, but don’t be staggered; go through them carefully, and select a shop that’s well situated, and doing a respectable trade.  Get hold of these people, and induce them to make changes in their business to suit your idea.  Then blaze away with circulars, headed “South London Fashion Club;” send them round the whole district, addressed to women.  Every idiot of them will, at all events, come and look at the shop; that can be depended upon; in itself no bad advertisement.  Arrange to have a special department—­special entrance, if possible—­with “The Club” painted up.  Yes, by jingo!  Have a big room, with comfortable chairs, and the women’s weekly papers lying about, and smart dresses displayed on what-d’ye-call-’ems, like they have in windows.  Make the subscription very low at first, and give rattling good value; never mind if you lose by it.  Then, when you’ve got hold of a lot of likely people, try them with the share project.  By-the-bye, if you lose no time, you can bring in the Jubilee somehow.  Yes, start with the “Jubilee Fashion Club.”  I wonder nobody’s done it already.’