It rolled off the table on to the Turkey carpet (Jimmy was not so adroit as he had been in his tossing days), and seven Austrians, Germans, and Swiss sprang towards it with a simultaneous impulse to restore it to its owner.

Jimmy jumped to his feet.

“Don’t touch it!” he cried, and bent over it.

“Nay, nay!” he muttered, “I’ve lost.  Th’ old man’s lost, after all!”

And he returned to the table, having made a sensation in the room.

Helen was in paradise.  “I’m surprised you were ready to toss, uncle,” said she.  “However, it’s all right; we can get the luggage to-morrow.  It’s at Crewe.”

“How dost know it’s at Crewe?” he demanded.

“Because I had it labelled for Crewe.  You were silly to imagine that I was going to leave you.  But I thought I’d just leave nothing undone to make you give way.  I made sure I was beaten.  I made sure I should have to knuckle under.  And now you are goose enough to toss, and you’ve lost, you’ve lost!  Hurrah!” She clapped her hands softly.

“Do ye mean to tell me,” Jimmy thundered, “as ye’ve been playing a game wi’ me all this time?”

“Of course.”  She had no shame.

“And bought th’ steamer-ticket without meaning to go?”

“Well,” she said, “it’s no good half-playing when you’re playing for high stakes.  Besides, what’s fifteen pounds?”

He did not let her into the secret that he also had ordered the luggage to be labelled for Crewe.  They returned to the Five Towns the following morning.  And by mutual tacit agreement they never spoke of that excursion to Scotland.

In such manner came Helen Rathbone to be the mistress of Wilbraham Hall.

CHAPTER XX

THE FLITTING

Before the spacious crimson facade of Wilbraham Hall upon an autumn day stood Mr. Crump’s pantechnicon.  That is to say, it was a pantechnicon only by courtesy—­Mr. Crump’s courtesy.  In strict adherence to truth it was just a common furniture-removing van, dragged over the earth’s surface by two horses.  On the outer walls of it were an announcement that Mr. Crump removed goods by road, rail or steamer, and vast coloured pictures of Mr. Crump removing goods by road, rail and steamer.  One saw the van in situations of grave danger—­travelling on an express train over a lofty viaduct at sixty miles an hour, or rolling on the deck of a steamer in a stormy sea.  One saw it also in situations of impressive natural beauty—­as, for instance, passing by road through terrific mountain defiles, where cataracts rushed and foamed.  The historic fact was that the van had never been beyond the Five Towns.  Nevertheless, Mr. Crump bound himself in painted letters six inches high to furnish estimates for any removal whatsoever; and, what is more, as a special boon to the Five Towns, to furnish estimates free of charge.  In this detail Mr. Crump had determined not to lag behind his fellow-furniture-removers, who, one and all, persist in refusing to accept even a small fee for telling you how much they demand for their services.