tart and cream, and a
little jug of cider.

Poor Beth, accustomed to the most uninteresting food, and not enough
of that, was so exhausted by her long fast and arduous labours, that
she found it difficult to restrain her tears at the sight of such good
things. She ate and drank with seemly self-restraint, however; it
would have lowered her much in her own estimation if she had showed
any sign of the voracity she felt.

Then the watch began. Having wrapped themselves up in their walking
things to be ready for any emergency, they locked the door and opened
the window softly. They were in a room at the top of the house, which,
being next door to the Benyons, commanded the same extensive view down
the front street and a bit of Rock Street and the back street, and up
Orchard Street on the left to the church. They were watching for a
sailor in a smart yachting suit, a man-of-war's man with bare feet,
and a priest in a heavy black cloak. Beth, greatly refreshed and
stimulated by her supper and the cider, fell into her most fascinating
mood; and Charlotte listened enthralled to wonderful descriptions of
places she had visited with Hector, sights she had seen, and events
she had taken part in.

"But how is it you are not missed from home when you go away like
that?" said Charlotte.

"How is it I am not missed to-night?" Beth answered. "When you are
fully initiated into the Secret Service of Humanity you will find that
things happen in a way you would never suspect."

"I suppose it is all right and proper being so much alone with single
gentlemen," Charlotte just ventured.

"All things are right and proper so long as you do nothing wrong,"
Beth answered sententiously.

Lights began to move from room to room in the houses about them,
gigantic shadows of people appeared on white window blinds in
fantastic poses, and there was much moving to and fro as they prepared
for bed. Then one by one the lights went out, and in the little
old-fashioned window-panes the dark brightness of the sky and the
crystal stars alone were reflected. It was a fine clear night, the gas
burnt brightly in the quiet streets, there was not a soul stirring.

"Isn't it exquisite?" said Beth, sniffing the sweet air. "I am glad I
was born, if it is only for the sake of being alive at night."

After this they were silent. Then by degrees the desire for sleep
became imperative, and they both suffered acutely in their efforts to
resist it. Finally Charlo