t have teemed with events. In the
railway carriage he glowed with good fellowship toward the other
passengers; the rain-beaten hop-lands rejoiced his eyes, and the first
houses of London were so many friendly faces greeting his return. From
the station he drove to his shop. Allchin, engaged in serving a lady,
forgot himself at the sight of Mr. Jollyman, and gave a shout of
welcome. All was right, nothing troublesome had happened; trade better
than usual at this time of year.

"He'll have to put up the shutters," said Allchin confidentially, with
a nod in the direction of the rival grocer. "His wife's been making a
row in the shop again--disgraceful scene--talk of the 'ole
neighbourhood. She began throwing things at customers, and somebody as
was badly hit on the jaw with a tin of sardines complained to the
police. We shall be rid of him very soon, you'll see, sir."

This gave Warburton small satisfaction, but he kept his human thoughts
to himself, and presently went home. Here his landlady met him with the
announcement that only a few hours ago she had forwarded a letter
delivered by the post this morning. This was vexatious; several days
must elapse before he could have the letter back again from St. Jean de
Luz. Sure that Mrs. Wick must have closely scrutinised the envelope, he
questioned her as to handwriting and postmark, but the woman declared
that she had given not a glance to these things, which were not her
business. Couldn't she even remember whether the writing looked
masculine or feminine? No; she had not the slightest idea; it was not
her business to "pry" and Mrs. Wick closed her bloodless lips with
virtuous severity.

He had tea and walked back again to the shop, w ere as he girt himself
with his apron, he chuckled contentedly.

"Has Mrs. Cross looked in?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir," answered his henchman, "she was here day before yes'day,
and asked where you was. I said you was travelling for your health in
foreign parts."

"And what did she say to that?"

"She said 'Oh'--that's all, sir. It was a very small order she gave. I
can't make out how she manages to use so little sugar in her 'ouse.
It's certain the servant doesn't have her tea too sweet--what do _you_
think, sir?"

Warburton spoke of something else.

At nine o'clock he sat at home awaiting his visitor. The expected knock
soon sounded and Sherwood was shown into the room. Will grasped his
hand, calling out: "What news?

"News?" echoe