Mrs. Postwhistle sat on a Windsor-chair in the centre of Rolls Court.  Mrs. Postwhistle, who, in the days of her Hebehood, had been likened by admiring frequenters of the old Mitre in Chancery Lane to the ladies, somewhat emaciated¹, that an English artist, since become famous, was then commencing to popularise, had developed with the passing years, yet still retained a face of placid² youthfulness.  The two facts, taken in conjunction, had resulted in an asset to her income not to be despised.  The wanderer through Rolls Court this summer’s afternoon, presuming him to be familiar with current journalism³, would have retired⁴ haunted by the sense that the restful-looking lady on the Windsor-chair was someone that he ought to know.  Glancing through almost any illustrated⁵ paper of the period, the problem would have been solved for him.  A photograph of Mrs. Postwhistle, taken quite recently, he would have encountered with this legend: “Before use of Professor Hardtop’s certain cure for corpulency.”  Beside it a photograph of Mrs. Postwhistle, then Arabella Higgins, taken twenty years ago, the legend slightly varied⁶: “After use,” etc.  The face was the same, the figure—there was no denying it—had undergone decided⁷ alteration⁸.