IV + 

It was a fair sunny morning next day when George Finch trotted up the steps of Number 16, Seventy-Ninth Street, East, and pressed the bell. He was wearing his dove-grey suit, and under his arm was an enormous canvas wrapped in brown paper. After much thought he had decided to present Molly with his favourite work, Hail, Jocund Spring!⁠—a picture representing a young woman, scantily draped and obviously suffering from an advanced form of chorea, dancing with lambs in a flower-speckled field. At the moment which George had selected for her portrayal, she had⁠—to judge from her expression⁠—just stepped rather hard on a sharp stone. Still, she was George’s masterpiece, and he intended to present her to Molly. + 

The door opened. Ferris, the butler, appeared. + 

“All goods,” said Ferris, regarding George dispassionately, “must be delivered in the rear.” + 

George blinked. + 

“I want to see Miss Waddington.” + 

“Miss Waddington is not at home.” + 

“Can I see Mr. Waddington?” asked George, accepting the second-best. + 

“Mr. Waddington is not at home.” + 

George hesitated a moment before he spoke again. But love conquers all. + 

“Can I see Mrs. Waddington?” + 

“Mrs. Waddington is not at home.” + 

As the butler spoke, there proceeded from the upper regions of the house a commanding female voice that inquired of an unseen Sigsbee how many times the speaker had told him not to smoke in the drawing-room. + 

“But I can hear her,” George pointed out. + 

The butler shrugged his shoulders with an aloof gesture, as if disclaiming all desire to go into these mysteries. His look suggested that he thought George might possibly be psychic. + 

“Mrs. Waddington is not at home,” he said once more. + 

There was a pause. + 

“Nice morning,” said George. + 

“The weather appears to be clement,” agreed Ferris. + 

George then tumbled backwards down the steps, and the interview concluded. + 