“You’ve heard?” he asked, as she shook hands.

Mavis looked at him in surprise.

“Of course you have, and have come to congratulate me,” he continued.

“I’m glad you’ve been successful,” said Mavis, now divining the reason of his elation.

“Yes” (here he sighed happily), “I’ve won the great cotillion prize competition.  Just think of it!” Here he took a deep breath before saying, “All the dancing-masters in the United Kingdom competed, even including Gellybrand” (here his voice and face perceptibly hardened), “but I won.”

“I congratulate you,” said Mavis.

Mr Poulter’s features weakened into a broad smile eloquent of an immense satisfaction.

“You can tell people you’ve been one of the first to congratulate me,” he remarked.

“I won’t forget.  I was sorry to see that Miss Nippett is so unwell.”

“It’s most unfortunate; it so interferes with the evening classes.”

“But she may get well soon.”

“I fear not.”

“Really?” asked Mavis, genuinely concerned for her friend’s health.

“It’s a great pity.  Accompanists like her are hard to find.  Besides, she was well acquainted with all the many ramifications of the academy.”

Mavis recalled that, in the old days of her association with “Poulter’s,” she had noticed that otherwise kindly Mr Poulter took Miss Nippett’s body and soul loyalty to him quite as a matter of course.  Time, apparently, had not caused him to think otherwise of the faithful accompanist than as a once capable but now failing machine.

Mr Poulter asked Mavis what had happened to her since he had last seen her.  She told him the fiction of her marriage; it hurt her to see how glibly the lie now fell from her lips.

After Mr Poulter had congratulated her and her absent husband, he said: 

“I fear you would not care to undertake any accompanying.”

“But I should.”

“As you did before?”

“Certainly!”

It was then arranged that Mavis should commence work at the academy on that day, for much the same terms she was paid before.  This matter being settled, she asked for notepaper and envelope, on which she wrote to Mrs Farthing, asking her to be so good as to send Jill at once, and to be sure to let her know by what train she would arrive at Paddington.  Mavis was careful to head the notepaper with the address of the academy; she did not wish anyone at Melkbridge to know her actual address.  After taking leave of Mr Poulter and posting her letter, she repaired to Miss Nippett’s as arranged.  The accompanist was now out of bed, in a chair before the fire.  Directly she caught sight of Mavis, she said: 

“’As he won?”

“Yes, he’s won the great cotillion prize competition.”

A look of intense joy illumined Miss Nippett’s face.

“Isn’t he proud?” she asked.

“Very!”