en it's so much less time wasted. Don't stretch out your hand to the
worse when it may some day grasp the better," Peter continued. Mrs.
Rooth raised her eyes at him as if recognising the force there might be
in that, and he added: "Let her blaze out, let her look about her. Then
you may talk to me if you like."

"It's very puzzling!" the old woman artlessly sighed.

He laughed again and then said: "Now don't tell me I'm not a good
friend."

"You are indeed--you're a very noble gentleman. That's just why a quiet
life with you----"

"It wouldn't be quiet for _me_!" he broke in. "And that's not what
Miriam was made for."

"_Don't say that_ for my precious one!" Mrs. Rooth quavered.

"Go to London--go to London," her visitor repeated.

Thoughtfully, after an instant, she extended her hand and took from the
table the letter on the composition of which he had found her engaged.
Then with a quick movement she tore it up. "That's what Mr. Dashwood
says."

"Mr. Dashwood?"

"I forgot you don't know him. He's the brother of that lady we met the
day you were so good as to receive us; the one who was so kind to
us--Mrs. Lovick."

"I never heard of him."

"Don't you remember how she spoke of him and that Mr. Lovick didn't seem
very nice about him? She told us that if he were to meet us--and she was
so good as to intimate that it would be a pleasure to him to do so--he
might give us, as she said, a tip."

Peter achieved the effort to recollect. "Yes he comes back to me. He's
an actor."

"He's a gentleman too," said Mrs. Rooth.

"And you've met him, and he _has_ given you a tip?"

"As I say, he wants us to go to London."

"I see, but even I can tell you that."

"Oh yes," said Mrs. Rooth; "but _he_ says he can help us."

"Keep hold of him then, if he's in the business," Peter was all for
that.

"He's a perfect gentleman," said Mrs. Rooth. "He's immensely struck with
Miriam."

"Better and better. Keep hold of him."

"Well, I'm glad you don't object," she grimaced.

"Why should I object?"

"You don't regard us as _all_ your own?"

"My own? Why, I regard you as the public's--the world's."

She gave a little shudder. "There's a sort of chill in that. It's grand,
but it's cold. However, I needn't hesitate then to tell you that it's
with Mr. Dashwood Miriam has gone out."

"Why hesitate, gracious heaven?" But in the next breath Sherringham
asked: "Where have they gone?"

"You don't like it!" his hostess