on the first of October."

"Well--it's a good idea. The shop isn't worth while," said Miss
Pinnegar.

"Certainly it isn't," said James, rubbing his hands: a sign that he
was rarely excited and pleased.

"And you'll just retire, and live quietly," said Miss Pinnegar.

"I shall see," said James. And with those fatal words he wafted away
to find Mr. May.

James was now nearly seventy years old. Yet he nipped about like a
leaf in the wind. Only, it was a frail leaf.

"Father's got something going," said Alvina, in a warning voice.

"I believe he has," said Miss Pinnegar pensively. "I wonder what it
is, now."

"I can't imagine," laughed Alvina. "But I'll bet it's something
awful--else he'd have told us."

"Yes," said Miss Pinnegar slowly. "Most likely he would. I wonder
what it can be."

"I haven't an idea," said Alvina.

Both women were so retired, they had heard nothing of James's little
trips down to Lumley. So they watched like cats for their man's
return, at dinner-time.

Miss Pinnegar saw him coming along talking excitedly to Mr. May,
who, all in grey, with his chest perkily stuck out like a robin, was
looking rather pinker than usual. Having come to an agreement, he
had ventured on whiskey and soda in honour, and James had actually
taken a glass of port.

"Alvina!" Miss Pinnegar called discreetly down the shop. "Alvina!
Quick!"

Alvina flew down to peep round the corner of the shop window. There
stood the two men, Mr. May like a perky, pink-faced grey bird
standing cocking his head in attention to James Houghton, and
occasionally catching James by the lapel of his coat, in a vain
desire to get a word in, whilst James's head nodded and his face
simply wagged with excited speech, as he skipped from foot to foot,
and shifted round his listener.

"Who _ever_ can that common-looking man be?" said Miss Pinnegar, her
heart going down to her boots.

"I can't imagine," said Alvina, laughing at the comic sight.

"Don't you think he's dreadful?" said the poor elderly woman.

"Perfectly impossible. Did ever you see such a pink face?"

"_And_ the braid binding!" said Miss Pinnegar in indignation.

"Father might almost have sold him the suit," said Alvina.

"Let us hope he hasn't sold your father, that's all," said Miss
Pinnegar.

The two men had moved a few steps further towards home, and the
women prepared to flee indoors. Of course it was frightfully wrong
to be standing peeping in the high street