declared, etc., etc.
However, as luck would have it, she did know of another girl, a really
good general servant, who had only just been thrown out of a place by
the death of her mistress, and who was living at home in Kentish Town.
Thither sped Warburton; he saw the girl and her mother, and, on
returning, sent a note to Mrs. Cross, in which he detailed all he had
learnt concerning the new applicant. At the close he wrote: "You are
aware, I think, that the name under which I do business is not my own.
Permit me, in writing to you on a private matter, to use my own
signature"--which accordingly followed. Moreover, he dated the letter
from his lodgings, not from the shop.

The next day brought him a reply; he found it on his breakfast table,
and broke the envelope with amused curiosity. Mrs. Cross wrote that
"Sarah Walker" had been to see her, and if inquiries proved
satisfactory, would be engaged. "We are very greatly obliged for the
trouble you have taken. Many thanks for your kind inquiries as to my
health. I am glad to say that the worst of the shock has passed away,
though I fear that I shall long continue to feel its effects." A few
remarks followed on the terrible difficulties of the servant question;
then "Should you be disengaged on Sunday next, we shall be glad if you
will take a cup of tea with us."

Over his coffee and egg, Will pondered this invitation. It pleased him,
undeniably, but caused him no undue excitement. He would have liked to
know in what degree Mrs. Cross' daughter was a consenting party to the
step. Perhaps she felt that, after the services he had rendered, the
least one could do was to invite him to tea. Why should he refuse?
Before going to business, he wrote a brief acceptance. During the day,
a doubt now and then troubled him as to whether he had behaved
discreetly, but on the whole he looked forward to Sunday with pleasant
expectation.

How should he equip himself? Should he go dressed as he would have gone
to the Pomfrets', in his easy walking attire, jacket and soft-felt? Or
did the circumstances dictate chimney-pot and frock-coat? He scoffed at
himself for fidgeting over the point; yet perhaps it had a certain
importance. After deciding for the informal costume, at the last moment
he altered his mind, and went arrayed as society demands; with the
result that, on entering the little parlour--that name suited it much
better than drawing-room--he felt overdressed, pompous, generally
a