uation. "I'm going to take
an arm of each of 'em and Matilda'll take yours," she said, at length.

"As you please," said Fraser, and in this way the procession actually
started up the wharf, and looking back indignantly over its shoulder saw
the watchman and Ben giving way to the most unseemly mirth, while the
cook capered joyously behind them. A belated cab was passing the gate as
they reached it, and in response to the mate's hail pulled sharply up.

Mrs. Tipping, pushing her captives in first, stepped heavily into the
cab followed by her daughter, while the mate, after a brief discussion,
clambered onto the box.

"Go on," he said, nodding.

"Wot, ain't the rest of you comin'?" enquired the cabman, eyeing the
crowd at the gate, in pained surprise.

"No. 17, Beaufort Street, Bow," said Mrs. Tipping, distinctly, as she
put her head out of the window.

"You could sit on 'er lap," continued the cabman, appealingly.

No reply being vouchsafed to this suggestion, he wrapped himself up
in various rugs and then sat down suddenly before they could unwind
themselves. Then, with a compassionate "click" to his horse, started
up the road. Except for a few chance wayfarers and an occasional
coffee-stall, the main streets were deserted, but they were noisy
compared with Beaufort Street. Every house was in absolute darkness as
the cab, with instinctive deference to slumber, crawled slowly up and
down looking for No. 17.

It stopped at last, and the mate, springing down, opened the door, and
handing out the ladies, led the way up a flight of steps to the street
door.

"Perhaps you won't mind knocking," he said to Mrs. Tipping, "and don't
forget to tell the cap'n I've done this to oblige you because you
insisted upon it."

Mrs. Tipping, seizing the knocker, knocked loud and long, and after a
short interval repeated the performance. Somebody was heard stirring
upstairs, and a deep voice cried out that it was coming, and
peremptorily requested them to cease knocking.

"That's not Flower's voice," said Fraser.

"Not loud enough," said Miss Tipping.

The bolts were drawn back loudly and the chain grated; then the door
was flung open, and a big, red-whiskered man, blinking behind a candle,
gruffly enquired what they meant by it.

"Come inside," said Mrs. Tipping to her following.

"Ain't you come to the wrong house?" demanded the red-whiskered man,
borne slowly back by numbers.

"I don't think so," said Mrs. Tipping, su