the foolish shopman had been severely
dealt with by Deborah. When Sylvia recovered, however, she insisted upon
seeing Bart again, and then learned that Paul had been taken to Charing
Cross Hospital.

"They drawed him from under the wheels, miss, as white as a vellum
binding as ain't bin used. That gent as he was a-walking arm-in-arm
with, slipped and knocked Mr. Beecot spinning under the steam engine."
So did Bart describe the latest triumph of civilisation. "He was that
sorry, in a cold-blooded way, as I never saw. He helped to git Mr.
Beecot into a cab and druve off. Then I come to tell you."

"And a nice way you've told it," grunted Deborah, driving him to the
door. "Get back to the shop, you threadpaper of a man. My husband shall
never be such a fool. The engagement's off."

"Oh, Debby!" whimpered Bart, who, strange to say, was fondly attached to
the stout servant. But that may have been habit.

"Get along with you," she said, and banged the door in his face. "And
don't tell master," she bawled after him, "else he'll be fainting again,
drat him for a lily-livered duck!"

So Aaron never knew that the man who possessed the brooch had been run
over by a motor or was in the hospital. Sylvia and Deborah both tried
to look as cheerful as possible, and schemed how to see the lover who
had thus been laid low. Deborah boldly announced that she was taking
Sylvia to buy her a new dress--that is, to choose it, for the cost was
to be paid out of the servant's wages--and went with her one afternoon
to the hospital. They heard that Paul's arm was broken, and that he had
been slightly hurt about the head. But there was no danger of his dying,
and although they were not allowed to see him the two women returned
greatly cheered. But Sylvia frequently gave way to low spirits, thinking
that at any moment the good symptoms might give way to bad ones. Deborah
always cheered her, and went daily to get news. Always she returned to
say, "He's a-goin' on nicely, and has that color as he might be a
sunset." So Sylvia was bright until her next fit of low spirits came.

Meanwhile, their attention was taken up by the odd behavior of Aaron.
The old man suddenly announced that he was about to sell the shop and
retire, and displayed a feverish haste in getting rid of his stock, even
at a low price. Whether he sold the jewels so cheap as the books no one
ever knew; but certainly the pundit caste did well out of the sale.
Within the week the s