on you see?"

"Not this afternoon," answered Anna, "but this evening, I think yes. My
mistress will I ask if I an evening free have can."

"Is it necessary her to ask?" The question was put doubtfully.

"Yes, yes! But mind she will not. To me she is goodness itself--never
more good than this morning she was," shouted back Anna loyally.

"Fortunate you are," the voice became rather sharp and dry. "I notice
already have to quit--told I must skip."

"Never!" cried Anna indignantly. "Who has that you told?"

"The police."

"A bad business," wailed Anna. She was shocked at what her old
acquaintance told her. "I will Mrs. Otway ask you to help," she shouted
back.

He muttered a word or two and then, "Unless before eight you
communicate, Jane and I expect you this evening."

"Certainly, Herr Froehling."

CHAPTER IV

As Mrs. Otway left the cathedral, certain remarks made to her by members
of the little congregation jarred on her, and made her feel, almost for
the first time in her life, thoroughly out of touch with her friends and
neighbours.

Some one whom Mrs. Otway really liked and respected came up to her and
exclaimed, "I couldn't help feeling sorry the Dean did not mention
France and the French! Any one listening to him just now would have
thought that only Germany and ourselves and Belgium were involved in
this awful business." And then the speaker, seeing that her words were
not very acceptable, added quietly, "But of course the Dean, with so
many German friends, is in a difficult position just now." In fact,
almost every one said something that hurt and annoyed her, and that
though it was often only a word of satisfaction that at last England had
gone in, as more than one of them put it, "on the right side."

Passing through the arch of the square gateway which separates the town
from the Close, Mrs. Otway hurried down the pretty, quiet street which
leads in a rather roundabout way, and past one of the most beautiful
grey stone crosses in England, into the great market square which is one
of the glories of the famous cathedral city. Once there, she crossed the
wide space, part cobbled, part paved, and made her way into a large
building of stucco and red brick which bore above its plate-glass
windows the inscription in huge gilt letters, "THE WITANBURY STORES."

The Monday Bank Holiday had been prolonged, and so the Stores were only,
so to speak, half open. But as Mrs. Otway stepped through into