utcher watching a hungry dog. But his affair with Pinkey
had been full of surprises, and this was not the least, that chance had
given him an informal introduction to Pinkey's stepmother and the
furniture.

He had called again with vegetables, and when he adroitly remarked that
no one would have taken Mrs Partridge to be old enough to be the mother
of Pinkey, she had spent a delightful hour leaning against the doorpost
telling him how she came to marry Partridge, and the incredible number
of offers she had refused in her time. Charmed with his wit and
sympathy, she forgot what she was saying, and invited him to tea on the
following Sunday. Chook was staggered. He knew this was the custom of
the law-abiding, who nodded to the police and went to church on Sunday.
But here was the fox receiving a pressing invitation from the lamb. He
decided to talk the matter over with Pinkey. But when he told her of
the invitation, she flushed crimson.

"She asked yous to tea, did she? The old devil!"

"W'y," said Chook mortified.

"W'y? 'Cause she knows father 'ud kill yer, if yer put yer nose inside
the door."

"Oh! would 'e?" cried Chook, bristling.

"My word, yes! A bloke once came after Lil, an' 'e run 'im out so
quick 'e forgot 'is 'at, an' waited at the corner till I brought it."

"Well, 'e won't bustle me," cried Chook.

"But y'ain't goin'?" said Pinkey, anxiously.

"My oath, I am!" cried Chook. "I'm doin' the square thing this time,
don't yous fergit, an' no old finger's goin' ter bustle me, even if
'e's your father."

"Yous stop at 'ome while yer lucky," said Pinkey. "Ever since Lil
cleared out wi' Marsden, 'e swears 'e'll knife the first bloke that
comes after me."

"Ye're only kiddin'," said Chook, cheerfully; "an' wot'll 'e do ter
yous?"

"Me! 'E niver rouses on me. W'en 'e gits shirty, I just laugh, an' 'e
can't keep it up."

"Right-oh!" said Chook. "Look out fer a song an' dance nex' Sunday."

About five o'clock on the following Sunday afternoon, Chook,
beautifully attired in the larrikin fashion, sauntered up to the door
and tried the knocker. It was too stiff to move, and he used his
knuckles. Then he heard footsteps and a rapid whispering, and Pinkey,
white with anxiety, opened the door. Mrs Partridge, half dressed,
slipped into the bedroom and called out in a loud voice:

"Good afternoon, Mr Fowles! 'Ave yer come to take Elizabeth for a
walk?"

Ignoring Pinkey's whispered advice,