ontrived to give an impression that
he was attending to a job at Buckingham Palace.

Uncle Mo felt abashed at his implied rebuke. It was not deserved, for he
was guiltless of superstition. However, he had accepted the position of
delegate of the top-floor, which, of course, was an hysterical floor,
owing to the sex of its tenants. For Mr. Bartlett's meaning was the
conventional one, that all women were hysterical, not some more than
others. Uncle Mo felt that his position was insecure; and that he had
better retire from it. Noises, he conceded, was usually nothing at all;
but he had thought he would mention them, in this case.

Mr. Bartlett professed himself sincerely obliged to all persons who
would mention noises, in spite of their equivocal claims to existence.
It might save a lot of trouble in the end, and you never knew. As soon
as he had a half an hour to spare he would give attention. Till Tuesday
he was pretty well took up. No one need fidget himself about the noises
he mentioned; least of all need the landlord be communicated with, as he
was not a Practical Man, but in Independent Circumstances. Moreover, he
lived at Brixton.

CHAPTER XXVIII

OF A RAID ON DOLLY'S GARDEN. THAT YOUNG DRUITT'S BEHAVIOUR TO HIS
SISTER. MR. RAGSTROAR'S ACCIDENT, AND HIS MOKE. HOW THE TWO LADIES
CAME AT LAST. LADY GWENDOLEN RIVERS, AND HOW DOLLY GOT ON HER LAP.
HOW DAVE WENT UPSTAIRS TO GET HIS LETTER. HOW MRS. PRICHARD HAD
TAKEN MRS. MARROWBONE TO HEART, AND VICE VERSA. HOW DOLLY GOT A
LOCK OF GWEN'S HAIR, AND VICE VERSA. HOW DAVE DELAYED AND DOLLY AND
GWEN WENT TO FETCH HIM. A REMARKABLE SOUND. THEN GOD-KNOWS-WHAT,
OUTSIDE!

An effort of horticulture was afoot in the front-garden of No. 7, Sapps
Court. Dave Wardle and Dolly were engaged in an attempt to remedy a
disaster that had befallen the Sunflower. There was but one--the one
that had been present when Uncle Mo was adjusting that door-chain.

Its career had been cut short prematurely. For a boy had climbed up over
the end wall of those gardens acrost the Court, right opposite to where
it growed; and had all but cut through the stem, when he was cotched in
the very act by Michael Ragstroar. That young coster's vigorous
assertion of the rights of property did a man's heart good to see,
nowadays. The man was Uncle Mo, who got out of the house in plenty of
time to stop Michael half-murdering the marauder, as soon as he
consider