yhanger. The pathos of her situation overwhelmed him, argue as
he might about the immunity of `the right sort of women' from a certain
sort of disaster. On the Tuesday he sent her a post-office order for
twenty pounds. It rather more than made up the agreed sum of a hundred
pounds. She returned it, saying she did not need it. "Little fool!" he
said. He was not surprised. He was, however, very much surprised, a
few weeks later, to receive from Hilda her own cheque for eighty pounds
odd! More mystery! An absolutely incredible woman! Whence had she
obtained that eighty pounds? Needless to say, she offered no
explanation. He abandoned all conjecture. But he could not abandon the
image. And first Auntie Hamps said, and then Clara, and then even
Maggie admitted, that Edwin was sticking too close to business and
needed a change, needed rousing. Auntie Hamps urged openly that a wife
ought to be found for him. But in a few days the great talkers of the
family, Auntie Hamps and Clara, had grown accustomed to Edwin's state,
and some new topic supervened.

VOLUME FOUR, CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE WALL.

One morning--towards the end of November--Edwin, attended by Maggie, was
rearranging books in the drawing-room after breakfast, when there came a
startling loud tap at the large central pane of the window. Both of
them jumped.

"Who's throwing?" Edwin exclaimed.

"I expect it's that boy," said Maggie, almost angrily.

"Not Georgie?"

"Yes. I wish you'd go and stop him. You've no idea what a tiresome
little thing he is. And so rough too!"

This attitude of Maggie towards the mysterious nephew was a surprise for
Edwin. She had never grumbled about him before. In fact they had seen
little of him. For a fortnight he had not been abroad, and the rumour
ran that he was unwell, that he was `not so strong as he ought to be.'
And now Maggie suddenly charged him with a whole series of misdoings!
But it was Maggie's way to keep unpleasant things from Edwin for a time,
in order to save her important brother from being worried, and then in a
moment of tension to fling them full in his face, like a wet clout.

"What's he been up to?" Edwin inquired for details.

"Oh! I don't know," answered Maggie vaguely. At the same instant came
another startling blow on the window. "There!" Maggie cried, in
triumph, as if saying: "That's what he's been up to!" After all, the
windows were Maggie's own windows.

Edwin left