ntenance, had a
servant-girl to covet jewellery? And how pitiable the spirit that
prompted to a filching of half-crowns! For the criminals of finance, who
devastate a thousand homes, Miss French had no small admiration; crimes
such as the present were mean and dirty.

Ada reappeared, hurriedly clad for going forth; but no one had fetched a
cab. Incensed, she ordered her husband to do so.

'Who are you speaking to?' he replied wrathfully. 'I am not your
servant.'

Fanny laughed. The policeman, professionally calm, averted a smiling
face.

'It's nothing to me,' said Mrs. Peachey. 'I'm quite willing to walk.
Come along, constable.'

Her husband interposed.

'The girl doesn't go from my house until she's properly dressed.' He
turned to the other servants. 'Please to blow the whistle at the door,
or get a cab somehow. Emma, go upstairs and put your things on.'

'It was about time you behaved like a man,' fell quietly from Beatrice.

'You're right.' He looked sternly at the speaker. 'It _is_ time, and
that you shall all know.'

The culprit, suddenly silent, obeyed his order. The constable went
out at the front door, and there waited whilst a cab-summoning whistle
shrilled along De Crespigny Park.

Ada had ascended to the first landing, to make sure that the culprit did
not escape her. Beatrice and Fanny retired into the drawing-room.
After a lapse of some ten minutes two cabs rattled up to the door
from opposite directions, each driver lashing his horse to gain the
advantage. So nearly were they matched, that with difficulty the
vehicles avoided a collision. The man who had secured a place
immediately in front of the doorsteps, waved his whip and uttered a
shout of insulting triumph; his rival answered with volleys of abuse,
and drove round as if meditating an assault; it was necessary for the
policeman to interfere. Whereupon the defeated competitor vowed that
it was sanguinary hard lines; that for the sanguinary whole of this
sanguinary day had he waited vainly for a sanguinary fare, and but for a
sanguinary stumble of his sanguinary horse--

Tired of waiting, and suspicious of the delay, Ada went up to the room
where the servant was supposed to be making ready. It was a little room,
which served as night-nursery; by the girl's bed stood a cot occupied by
the child. Ada, exclaiming 'Now, come along!' opened the door violently.
A candle was burning; the boy, awake but silent, sat up in his cot, and
looked abou