Again Felix broke in.

“I have not a doubt of it, but when is all this to take place?”

Ganger gave a little start and grew suddenly grave.

“Well, as to that, you see the day is not yet fixed, not precisely.  In a week maybe, or it may be two weeks.  This is Sam’s party, you know, and he hasn’t completed all his arrangements—­that is, he hadn’t completed them when I left him this morning.  And, of course, a lot has to be done to make everything ready”—­here he nodded at Masie—­“for little princesses and great ladies in plumes and satins.  But it is certainly coming off.  Old Sam told me so, and he means every word of it.  And he was to let you know when.  That’s it, he was to let you know.  That’s another thing he told me to tell you.”

The child’s name was now called from the top of the stairs, and the Gossburger’s head craned itself over the hand-rail.  Fudge opened with a sharp bark, and Masie, with an air kiss to Ganger, raced up the steps, the dog at her heels, shouting as she ran:  “Tell Mr. Dogger I send him a kiss, and I thank him ever so much, and won’t he please come and see me very soon.”

When she had disappeared, the old fellow leaned forward, gazed knowingly at Felix, and in soft-pedal tones said: 

“You see, Sam couldn’t say exactly when the party was to take place because—­well, because he hasn’t heard a word about it, and won’t until I get back.  It is my party, not Sam’s, and I’ve got to break it to him gently.  And I’ve got to fool him about the party, make him think it’s his party, or he’ll think I’m holding it over him because I’ve got a little more money than he has, just as I intend to fool him about the picture.  I couldn’t say, when you asked me, when the day was to be fixed, because I’ve told lies enough to that dear child.  But I know just what Sam will do when I tell him about his party; he’ll stand on his head he’ll be so happy.  You see if, when I unwrapped the picture, you had talked ten dollars right out, why then I was going to make it next Saturday; that is, to-morrow.  But you hemmed and hawed so, I had to make it ‘some day soon.’  Of course, I never expected the fifty; ten will be enough for car-fare all around and some beer and sandwiches, that’s all we ever have.  That’s why I chucked in Augustus to make sure.  Well, see what you can do, and don’t forget to write the note and I’ll do the rest of the lying.”  And chuckling to himself he hurried away.

As the door swung wide, a slim man bustled past him, and, spying Felix, moved briskly to where he stood.  He had just ten minutes to spare, he announced, and was looking for a present for his wife; “something in the way of fans, old ones, and not over five dollars.”

Felix, who had raised the lid of the case and was stowing Dogger’s masterpiece inside to keep it out of harm’s way, his mind wholly occupied with the two old painters and their tenderness toward each other, roused himself to answer: