covered the oval table, and spread on the latter a cloth of snowy linen,
busied herself in arranging the tea things.

Henry noted that cups and saucers were set for five, and as he only knew
of four in the household, including Edgar's father and himself, he fell
to wondering who the fifth might be. Undoubtedly his powers of
observation had been sharpened from contact with the Stratford
representative of the _Guardian_.

The preparations for the evening meal had just been completed when the
outer door was opened, and Edgar, a fresh-complexioned young fellow of
nineteen, arrived, full of apologies for having been unable to meet his
guest, as he had been unexpectedly called upon to attend an inquest at
the "Crown" Inn.

"And an interesting case it is, by Jove!" he exclaimed brightly. "A man
has shuffled off this mortal coil by--what d'you think?"

"Poison or a razor," suggested Henry, out of the fulness of his
knowledge of poor humanity.

"Nothing so common for Johnnie Briggs the bookie. Everybody knows
Johnnie, and he meant to make a noise when he snuffed out. Up to the
eyes in debt, I fancy. He has choked himself with a leather boot-lace,
and Wiggins in the High Street is as proud as Punch because it was one
of his laces. Isn't it funny?"

"It's very horrible," said Henry, who could not help showing in his
looks the feeling of disgust aroused within him by Edgar's levity in
speaking of so bad an occurrence.

"Horrible! Why, I think it's stunning, and old Spring will be as mad as
a march hare because Johnnie didn't perform his dramatic exit in time
for this week's edition of the _Guardian_. The _Advertiser_ will be out
next Wednesday with full details, and we don't appear till Friday. It's
always the way; that Wednesday rag gets all the spicy bits. But there,
don't let us start talking shop all at once. I'm famished. How are you?"

But before Henry could describe his condition, a bright young woman of
some eighteen years had entered the parlour, to be introduced
unceremoniously as "My sister Flo--Mr. Henry Charles."

Here, then, was number five, and a very acceptable tea-table companion,
thought Henry, though the blushing and mumbling with which he said how
pleased he was to meet her showed him to be as awkward in the presence
of the fair sex as he was new to the jargon of journalism. He dared
hardly lift his eyes to look the new-comer in the face, but on her part
there was no evidence of shyness.

Over the