t half an hour. It's all happened since
your brother left. She come to the side-door; Missis wouldn't hear
nothing she had got to say, nor let her speak. Oh, Mr Wentworth, don't
you go after her!" cried the girl, following him to the side-door, to
which he rushed immediately. Not half an hour gone! Mr Wentworth burst
into the lane which led up to Grove Street, and where there was not a
soul to be seen. He went back to Grange Lane, and inspected every
corner where she could have hid herself. Then, after a pause, he
walked impetuously up the quiet road, and into Elsworthy's shop. Mrs
Elsworthy was there alone, occupying her husband's place, who had gone
as usual to the railway for the evening papers. She jumped up from the
high stool she was seated on when the Curate entered. "Good gracious,
Mr Wentworth!" cried the frightened woman, and instinctively called
the errand-boy, who was the only other individual within hearing. She
was unprotected, and quite unable to defend herself if he meant
anything; and it was impossible to doubt that there was meaning of the
most serious and energetic kind in Mr Wentworth's face.

"Has Rosa come back?" he asked. "Is she here? Don't stare at me, but
speak. Has she come back? I have just heard that she was at my house
half an hour ago: have you got her safe?"

It was at this moment that Wodehouse came lounging in, with his cigar
appearing in the midst of his beard, and a curious look of
self-exhibition and demonstration in his general aspect. When the
Curate, hearing the steps, turned round upon him, he fell back for a
moment, not expecting such an encounter. Then the vagabond recovered
himself, and came forward with the swagger which was his only
alternative.

"I thought you weren't on good terms here," said Wodehouse; "who are you
asking after? It's a fine evening, and they don't seem up to much in my
house. I have asked Jack Wentworth to the Blue Boar at seven--will you
come? I don't want to bear any grudge. I don't know if they can cook
anything fit to be eaten in my house. It wasn't me you were asking
after?" The fellow came and stood close, shoulder to shoulder, by the
Perpetual Curate. "By Jove, sir! I've as good a right here as you--or
anywhere," he muttered, as Mr Wentworth withdrew from him. He had to say
it aloud to convince himself of the fact; for it was hard, after being
clandestine for half a lifetime, to move about freely in the daylight.
As for Mr Wentworth, he fixed hi