e to see you put on bread and water
till you owned up whether you've told lies or not."

Mrs. Clover was moved to the point of shedding tears, though her
handkerchief soon stopped the flow.

"Polly," she said, raising her voice above the hubbub, "you've treated
me that bad there's no words for it. But I can't believe you'll let me
go away like this, without knowing whether you've really seen Mr.
Clover or not. Just tell me, do."

"Oh, it's just tell you, is it! After you've had me knocked about and
insulted by a dirty rough like that Gammon--"

"You've heard me say I never thought he meant to behave so. I wouldn't
have had it for anything."

Whilst Mrs. Clover was speaking Gammon beckoned to the landlady, and
together they retreated from the room, closing the door behind them. On
the stairs stood Mr. and Mrs. Cheeseman eager for the latest news of
the fray. At their invitation Mrs. Bubb and the hero of the evening
stepped up, and for a quarter of an hour Mrs. Clover was left alone
with her niece. Then the landlady's attention was called by a voice
from below.

"I must be going, Mrs. Bubb; I'll say good night."

Quickly Mrs. Bubb descended; she saw at a glance that Polly's wrath had
in no degree diminished, and that Mrs. Clover was no whit easier in
mind; but both had become silent. Merely saying that she would see her
hostess again before long, the lady of the china shop took a hurried
leave and quitted the house.

She had walked but a few yards when Mr. Gammon's voice sounded at her
shoulder.

"I'll see you part of the way home," he said genially.

"I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Gammon," was Mrs. Clover's reply, "but I
can find my own way."

"You'll let me see you into a 'bus, at all events."

"Please don't trouble; I'd much rather you didn't."

"Why?" asked Gammon bluntly.

"Because I had. I'll say good night."

She stood still looking him in the face with cold displeasure; only for
a moment though, as her eyes could not bear the honest look in his.

"Right you are," said Gammon with affected carelessness. "Just as you
like. I won't force my company on anyone."

Mrs. Clover made the movement which in women of her breeding signifies
a formal bow--hopelessly awkward, rigid, and self-conscious--and walked
rapidly away. The man, not a little crestfallen, swung round on his
heel.

"What's wrong now?" he asked himself. "It can t be about Minnie, for
she was all right till after supper. And why it shou