the stranger within her gates, whom she knew by
sight. There was some perturbation in her face. She had been worried
about the unusual duration of Mary's absence. Mary had not come back
with the market basket which contained the children's dinner. At one
o'clock the four elder ones would be upon her, ravening. What on earth
had become of Mary? The poor woman had not realised how much she
depended on Mary, since Mary was always present and always willing to
take the burdens off her stepmother's thin, stooped shoulders on to her
own.

Now she caught sight of the market-basket. One of Lady Anne's
white-capped maids had come in and deposited it quietly.

"Mary?" she gasped. "What has become of Mary?"

"Pray don't frighten yourself," said Lady Anne. "I have a message
from Mary. She is at my house. As a matter of fact, she met with an
accident. There--don't go so pale. It is only a matter of time. Her arm
is broken. She got it broken in saving the life of my little Maltese,
who had strayed out and had got in the way of the tram. I always said
that those trams should not be allowed. The tracks are so very
unpleasant--dangerous even, for the carriages of gentlefolk. There is
far too much traffic allowed on the public highways nowadays, far too
much. People ought to walk if they cannot keep carriages."

She broke off abruptly and looked at the three small children.

"These are yours?" she asked. "They seem very close together in age."

"A year and a half, three years, four years and three months," said Mrs.
Gray, forgetting in her special cause for pride her awe of Lady Anne.

"Dear me, I should have thought they were all twins," said the old lady.
"How very remarkable! Have you any more?"

"Four at school. The eldest is nine. You see, they came so quickly, my
lady. Only for Mary I don't know how I should have reared them."

"H'm! Mary is very stunted. It struck me that she would have been tall
if she had had a chance. Those heavy babies, doubtless. Well, I am going
to keep Mary for a while. How will you do without her?"

Mrs. Gray's faded eyes filled with tears.

"I can't imagine, my lady. You see, we have never kept a servant. When I
lived at home with my Mamma we always had three. Mr. Gray has literary
attainments, my lady. He is not practical."

"I can send you an excellent charwoman," Lady Anne broke in, "for the
present. I will see what is to be done about Mary. The child has
rendered me an inestimable servic