ng and having the whole place done
up and altered out of knowledge like this, without a word of warning! If
any halterations were required, I _do_ think as me and Rapkin had the
right to be consulted."

Horace let all his chrysanthemums drop unheeded into the fountain. He
understood now: indeed, he seemed in some way to have understood almost
from the first, only he would not admit it even to himself.

The irrepressible Jinnee was at the bottom of this, of course. He
remembered now having made that unfortunate remark the day before about
the limited accommodation his rooms afforded.

Clearly Fakrash must have taken a mental note of it, and, with that
insatiable munificence which was one of his worst failings, had
determined, by way of a pleasant surprise, to entirely refurnish and
redecorate the apartments according to his own ideas.

It was extremely kind of him; it showed a truly grateful
disposition--"but, oh!" as Horace thought, in the bitterness of his
soul, "if he would only learn to let well alone and mind his own
business!"

However, the thing was done now, and he must accept the responsibility
for it, since he could hardly disclose the truth. "Didn't I mention I
was having some alterations made?" he said carelessly. "They've got the
work done rather sooner than I expected. Were--were they long over it?"

"I'm sure I can't tell you, sir, having stepped out to get some things I
wanted in for to-night; and Rapkin, he was round the corner at his
reading-room; and when I come back it was all done and the workmen gone
'ome; and how they could have finished such a job in the time beats me
altogether, for when we 'ad the men in to do the back kitchen they took
ten days over it."

"Well," said Horace, evading this point, "however they've done this,
they've done it remarkably well--you'll admit that, Mrs. Rapkin?"

"That's as may be sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, with a sniff, "but it ain't
_my_ taste, nor yet I don't think it will be Rapkin's taste when he
comes to see it."

It was not Ventimore's taste either, though he was not going to confess
it. "Sorry for that, Mrs. Rapkin," he said, "but I've no time to talk
about it now. I must rush upstairs and dress."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but that's a total unpossibility--for they've
been and took away the staircase.'

"Taken away the staircase? Nonsense?" cried Horace.

"So _I_ think, Mr. Ventimore--but it's what them men have done, and if
you don't believe me,