st. Oh no--only mislaid! On further inquiry,
however, there was a certain undersized, plain-looking, and rather
despised chamber-maid who retained a lively and grateful recollection of
Mr Aspel, in consequence of his having given her an unexpectedly large
tip at parting, coupled with a few slight but kindly made inquiries as
to her welfare, which seemed to imply that he regarded her as a human
being. She remembered distinctly his telling her one evening that if
any one should call for him in his absence he was to be found at the
residence of a lady in Cat Street, Pimlico, but for the life of her she
couldn't remember the number, though she thought it must have been
number nine, for she remembered having connected it in her mind with the
well-known lives of a cat.

"Cat Street! Strange name--very!" said Sir James. "Are you sure it was
Cat Street?"

"Well, I ain't quite sure, sir," replied the little plain one, with an
inquiring frown at the chandelier, "but I know it 'ad somethink to do
with cats. P'r'aps it was Mew Street; but I'm _quite_ sure it was
Pimlico."

"And the lady's name?"

"Well, sir, I ain't sure of that neither. It was somethink queer, I
know, but then there's a-many queer names in London--ain't, there, sir?"

Sir James admitted that there were, and advised her to reflect on a few
of them.

The little plain one did reflect--with the aid of the chandelier--and
came to the sudden conviction that the lady's name had to do with
flowers. "Not roses--no, nor yet violets," she said, with an air of
intense mental application, for the maiden's memory was largely
dependent on association of ideas; "it might 'ave been marigolds, though
it don't seem likely. Stay, was it water--?--Oh! it was lilies! Yes, I
'ave it now: Miss Lilies-somethink."

"Think again, now," said the Baronet, "everything depends on the
`something,' for Miss Lilies is not so extravagantly queer as you seem
to think her name was."

"That's true, sir," said the perplexed maid, with a last appealing gaze
at the chandelier, and beginning with the first letter of the alphabet--
Miss Lilies A-- Lilies B-- Lilies C--, etcetera, until she came to K.
"That's it now. I 'ave it _almost_. It 'ad to do with lots of lilies,
I'm quite sure--quantities, it must 'ave been."

On Sir James suggesting that quantities did not begin with a K the
little plain one's feelings were slightly hurt, and she declined to go
any further into the question.