or the money, you understand, reely not for that; but
for the honour, as you might say."

"I quite understand."

"But there, one mustn't be too ambitious. That's the worst of me. And
it's the way to be un'appy," she sighed.

Mavis walked with heavy heart to her lodging; for all her own griefs,
Miss Nippett's touching faith in "Poulter's" moved her deeply.

When Mavis got back, she found Mrs Scatchard and her niece in high
feather. They insisted upon Mavis joining them at what they called a
knife and fork tea, to which Mr Napper and two friends of the family
had been invited. Mr Scatchard was not present, but no mention was made
of his absence, it being looked upon as an inevitable relaxation after
the work and fret of the day. The room was littered with evening papers.

"It all went off beautiful, my dear," Mrs Scatchard remarked to Mavis.

"I'm glad," said Mavis.

"We left him safe at the palace, and as there's nothing in the papers
about anything going wrong, it must be all right."

"Of course," Mavis assented.

"We know Mr Scatchard has his weaknesses; but then, if he hadn't, he
wouldn't be the musical artiste he is," declared his wife, at which
Mavis, who was just then drinking tea, nearly swallowed it the wrong
way.

Mr Napper soon dropped in, to be closely followed by a Mr Webb and a
Miss Jennings, who had never met the solicitor's clerk before. Mr Webb
and Miss Jennings were engaged to be married. As if to proclaim their
unalterable affection to the world, they sat side by side with their
arms about each other.

The presence of strangers moved Mr Napper to talk his farrago of
philosophical nonsense. It did not take long for Mavis to see that Miss
Jennings was much impressed by the flow of many-syllabled words which
issued, without ceasing, from the lawyer's clerk's lips. The admiration
expressed in the girl's eyes incited Mr Napper to further efforts.

He presently remarked to Miss Jennings:

"I can tell your character in two ticks."

Miss Jennings, who had been wholly resigned to the fact of her
insignificance, began to take herself with becoming seriousness.

"How?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with interest.

"By your face or by your 'ead."

"Do tell me," she pleaded.

"'Ead or face?"

"Try the head," she said, as she sought to free herself from her
lover's entangling embrace. But Mr Webb would not let her go; he
grasped her firmly by the waist, and, despite her entreaties, would not
r