face was tired
and peevish-looking, yet looked far pleasanter than she had done half an
hour ago, for her husband had just presented her with a long gold chain.

In a very, very quiet way, quite under the rose, so to speak, Mr. Hegner
sometimes went in for small money-lending transactions. He would give
loans on jewellery, and even on "curios" and good furniture; always,
however, in connection with an account which had, maybe, run a little
too long--never as a separate transaction. The old-fashioned chain of
18-carat gold, which he had just hung with a joking word round his
pretty wife's slender neck, had been the outcome of one of these minor
activities.

It was now a quarter to nine; and suddenly there came the sound of loud,
rather impatient knocking on the locked and barred front door of the
shop. A frown gathered over Mr. Hegner's face; it transformed his
good-looking, generally genial, countenance into something which was,
for the moment, very disagreeable.

"What can that be?" he said to his wife. "Did you not put plainly on
every card 'Entrance by Market Row,' Polly?"

"Yes," she said, a little frightened by his look. "It was most carefully
put in every case, Manfred."

The knocking had stopped now, as if the person outside expected the door
to open. Husband and wife went forward.

"Who can it be?" said Mrs. Hegner uneasily.

And then her question was answered.

The voice was clear and silvery. "It's Miss Haworth! Can I come in and
speak to you a moment, Mr. Hegner, or has the meeting already begun?"

"Why, it's the young lady from the Deanery!" exclaimed Manfred Hegner in
a relieved voice; and both he and his wife began hastily unlocking and
unbarring the great plate-glass doors.

The unbidden, unexpected visitor stepped forward into the shop, and Mrs.
Hegner eagerly noted the cut and shape of the prettily draped pale blue
silk evening coat, and tried to gain some notion of the evening gown
beneath.

"I'm so glad to be in time--I mean before your meeting has begun. How
very nice it all looks!" The speaker cast an approving glance on the
rout chairs, on the table at the top of the room, on the counter where
steamed, even now, the fragrant coffee. "The Dean has asked me to bring
a message--of course quite an informal message, Mr. Hegner. He wants
you to tell everybody that he is quite at their service if they want
anything done."

"That is very, very good of Mr. Dean. Polly, d'you hear that? Is no