row morning."

He drew his chair to the table again, and Hartley, after lingering a
moment, withdrew to his own room.

Ten out of his thirty-five years of service had been passed there,
and he stifled a sigh as he looked at the neat array of drawers and
pigeon-holes, the window overlooking the bridge and harbour, and
the stationer's almanac which hung over the fireplace. The japanned
letter-rack and the gum-bottle on the small mantelpiece were old
friends.

The day's work completed, he walked home in sober thought. It was a
pleasant afternoon in May, but he was too preoccupied to pay any heed to
the weather, and, after informing a man who stopped him to tell him that
he had lost a wife, six children, and a right leg, that it was just five
minutes past six, resumed his way with a hazy idea of having been useful
to a fellow-creature.

He brightened a little as he left the bustle of the town behind, and
from sheer force of habit glanced at the trim front-gardens as he
passed. The cloud lifted still more as he reached his own garden and
mentally compared his flowers with those he had just passed.

His daughter was out, and tea for one was laid in the front room. He
drew his chair to the table, and taking up the tea-pot, which the maid
had just brought in, poured himself out a cup of tea.

He looked round the comfortable room with pleasure. After all, nobody
could take that from him. He stirred his tea and had just raised the cup
to his lips when he set it down untasted and sat staring blankly before
him. A low rumble of voices from the kitchen fell unpleasantly on his
ear; and his daughter Joan had left instructions too specific to be
misunderstood as to his behaviour in the event of Rosa entertaining male
company during her absence. He coughed twice, loudly, and was glad
to note the disappearance of the rumble. Pleased with his success
he coughed a third time, a sonorous cough charged with importance. A
whispered rumble, possibly a suggestion of withdrawal, came from the
kitchen.

"Only his tea gone the wrong way," he heard, reassuringly, from Rosa.

The rumble, thus encouraged, deepened again. It became confident and
was heard to laugh. Mr. Hartley rose and, standing on the hearthrug with
legs apart, resolved to play the man. He leaned over and rang the bell.
The voices stopped. Then he heard Rosa say, "Not him! you stay where you
are."

She came slowly in response to the bell, and thrusting a yellow head in
a