ting
to tell you. Do sit down!"

"I will not thin. And you've nothin' to tell me that I haven't got be heart
already."

"But this is about Harry, who had supper with us and Mr. Watlin and Tony.
It's a most surprising adventure. Just wait and hear." I dragged her to a
chair.

She settled back with a smile of relaxation. "Aw well," she remarked, "who
would be foriver workin' fer small pay an' little thanks? Out wid your
story my lambie." And she drew The Seraph on her ample lap.

So while they clustered about me I told my whole adventure, ending with
Harry's plea that I interview Margery on his behalf.

"It's a 'normous responsibility," I sighed.

"Don't you worry," said Mary Ellen, "she'll want him home fast enough, a
fine young gintleman like him. Now I'm minded of it, their cook did tell me
that the Bishop had a son that was a regular playboy.

"He's not a playboy," I retorted. "He's splendid--and _please_ Mary Ellen,
there's something I want you to do for me. You must let me go this minute
to see Margery and find out if she wants him back again."

"Oh, she'll have him, no fear." This with a broad smile.

"But I've got to _ask_ her. I promised. It's a 'normous responsibility.
Will you _please_ let me, Mary El-len?"

"I will not," replied Mary Ellen, firmly. "It'ud be as much as my place is
worth."

I began to cry. Angel came to the rescue.

"Be a sport, Mary Ellen. Let him go. I'll stand at the gate and if I see
the Dragon coming, I'll pass the tip to John, and he can cut over the
garden wall and be in the room before she gets to the front door."

Mary Ellen threw up her hands. She never could resist Angel's coaxing. "God
save Ireland," she groaned, and, dropping The Seraph, clattered back to the
kitchen.

The Seraph stood like a rumpled robin where she had deposited him. He had
confided to me once that he rather liked being nursed by Mary Ellen, though
the heaving of her bosom bothered him. He was far too polite to tell her
this: but now that she was gone, he hunched his shoulders, stretched his
neck and breathed--

"What a welief!--"

I found Margery alone in the drawing-room. People had just been, for
teacups were standing about, and a single muffin lay in a silver muffin
dish. Even in the stress of my mission its isolation appealed to me.

Margery was doing something to a bowl of roses but she looked up, startled
at my appearance.

"Why, John!" she exclaimed, "what is the matter with you? Hav