'll remember to do so,' replied Bell, gravely, although she had no
intention of remaining awake all night to heat beef-tea and dose her
mother with it, especially as the invalid was not ill enough for such
extreme measures. But she was so touched by Miss Whichello's kindness
that she would not have offended her, by scouting her prescription, for
the world.

By this time Miss Whichello was seated in a little private parlour off
the bar, illuminated by an oil-lamp. This Bell turned up, and then she
noticed that her visitor looked anxious and ill at ease. Once or twice
she attempted to speak, but closed her mouth again. Bell wondered if Mrs
Pansey had been at work coupling her name with that of Gabriel's, and
whether Miss Whichello had come down to relieve her conscience by
warning her against seeing too much of the curate. But, as she knew very
well, Miss Whichello was too nervous and too much of a lady to give her
opinion on questions unasked, and therefore, banishing the defiant look
which had begun to harden her face, she waited to hear if it was any
other reason than bestowing the jelly which had brought the little old
spinster to so disreputable a quarter of the town at so untoward an
hour. Finally Miss Whichello's real reason for calling came out by
degrees, and in true feminine fashion she approached the main point by
side issues.

'Is your father in, Miss Mosk?' she asked, clasping and unclasping her
hands feverishly on her lap.

'No, Miss Whichello. He rode over this afternoon to Southberry on
business, and we do not expect him back till to-morrow morning. Poor
father!' sighed Bell, 'he went away in anything but good spirits, for he
is terribly worried over money matters.'

'The payment of his rent is troubling him, perhaps!'

'Yes, Miss Whichello. This is an expensive hotel, and the rent is high.
We find it so difficult to make the place pay that we are behindhand
with the rent. Sir Harry Brace, our landlord, has been very kind in
waiting, but we can't expect him to stand out of his money much longer.
I'm afraid in the end we'll have to give up The Derby Winner. But it is
no good my worrying you about our troubles,' concluded Bell, in a more
vivacious tone; 'what do you wish to see father about, Miss Whichello?
Anything that I can do?'

'Well, my dear, it's this way,' said the old lady, nervously. 'You know
that I have a much larger income than I need, and that I am always ready
to help the deserving.' 'I