from success was inexcusable.

The captain had also unbent in another direction, and Mr. Wilks, to his
great satisfaction, was allowed to renew his visits to Equator Lodge and
assist his old master in the garden. Here at least the steward was safe
from the designs of Mrs. Silk and the innuendoes of Fullalove Alley.

It was at this time, too, that the widow stood in most need of his
advice, the behaviour of Edward Silk being of a nature to cause
misgivings in any mother's heart. A strange restlessness possessed him,
varied with occasional outbursts of hilarity and good nature. Dark hints
emanated from him at these times concerning a surprise in store for her
at no distant date, hints which were at once explained away in a most
unsatisfactory manner when she became too pressing in her inquiries. He
haunted the High Street, and when the suspicious Mrs. Silk spoke of
Amelia he only laughed and waxed humorous over such unlikely subjects as
broken hearts and broken vows.

It was a week after Mr. Kybird's visit to the alley that he went, as
usual, for a stroll up and down the High Street. The evening was
deepening, and some of the shops had already lit up, as Mr. Silk, with
his face against the window-pane, tried in vain to penetrate the
obscurity of Mr. Kybird's shop. He could just make out a dim figure
behind the counter, which he believed to be Amelia, when a match was
struck and a gas jet threw a sudden light in the shop and revealed Mr.
Jack Nugent standing behind the counter with his hand on the lady's
shoulder.

[Illustration: "He could just make out a dim figure behind the counter."]

One glance was sufficient. The next moment there was a sharp cry from
Miss Kybird and a bewildered stare from Nugent as something, only
comparable to a human cracker, bounced into the shop and commenced to
explode before them.

"Take your 'and off," raved Mr. Silk. "Leave 'er alone. 'Ow dare you?
D'ye hear me? 'Melia, I won't 'ave it! I won't 'ave it!"

"Don't be silly, Teddy," remonstrated Mr. Nugent, following up Miss
Kybird, as she edged away from him.

"Leave 'er alone, d'ye 'ear?" yelled Mr. Silk, thumping the counter with
his small fist. "She's my _wife!_"

"Teddy's mad," said Mr. Nugent, calmly, "stark, staring, raving mad.
Poor Teddy."

He shook his head sadly, and had just begun to recommend a few remedies
when the parlour door opened and the figure of Mr. Kybird, with his wife
standing close behind him,