ent creature, so silent and
pale, but keenly anxious to put his shoulder to the wheel. He had
withdrawn from Sandhurst and, in conversations with the Tremenheeres,
informed them that his idea of going into the Army was knocked on the
head, and that he now intended to look out for some job in the City.

It must not be supposed that Jane Tebbs, the indefatigable, was the
only neighbour who had come forward with offers of assistance to the
widow; the Tremenheeres, the vicarage, and many other acquaintances had
been sincere in their sympathy and goodwill, but somehow or other Mrs.
Shafto would have none of them! She refused to see the vicar or his
wife, and lay in bed most of the day bewailing her fate, scribbling
answers to letters of condolence, and occasionally dipping into a
novel. "Read she must," she declared, "as it diverted her mind from
the too dreadful present. A good novel was the best of anodynes."

The auction at "Littlecote" proved an important local event, and threw
the annual Church bazaar woefully into the shade. It lasted three
summer days and enabled a substantial sum to be placed to the credit of
Edward Shafto's widow. Unfortunately Edward Shafto's widow had
considerable private debts and, when these were settled, five hundred
pounds was all that remained for investment.

As is proverbial with respect to auctions, good and even valuable lots
went in some cases for the traditional old song; it is on record that
Mrs. Shafto's smart victoria was sold to a jobmaster for six pounds,
Mrs. Billing secured a wonderful bargain in the Crown Derby tea
service, and the Sheffield tea urn fell to Miss Tebbs for ten shillings
and sixpence! On the other hand, rubbish was at a premium. The
kitchen utensils were dispersed at an alarmingly high figure, and a
Turkey carpet, aged twenty years, fetched more than its original cost.

The sale was over. Needless to say, it had afforded enormous interest
to the inmates of Highfield Cottage. Miss Jane could almost tell the
price and history of each individual lot.

In a short time the great placards of advertisement were torn off the
gate piers at "Littlecote," the house was closed, and once more the
blinds were down.

CHAPTER IV

KICKS AND HALFPENCE

More than four years had elapsed since Mrs. Shafto and her son had
driven away from "Littlecote" behind a pair of smart bay steppers.
(The widow was determined to keep up what she was pleased to call "her
po