“I don’t care much for myself,” the girl went on; “there’s plenty of shops where I can get an engagement, but of course it won’t be the same as here, which has been home for me ever since I was a child.  There! the things that men will do!  I’ve told him plain to his face that he ought to be ashamed of himself, and so has aunt.  And he is ashamed, what’s more.  Don’t you call it disgusting, such a marriage as that?”

Hilliard avoided the delicate question.

“I shouldn’t wonder if it hastens another marriage,” he said with a smile.

“I know what you mean, but the chances are that marriage won’t come off at all.  I’m getting tired of men; they’re so selfish and unreasonable.  Of course I don’t mean you, Mr. Hilliard, but—­oh! you know what I mean.”

“Mr. Dally has fallen under your displeasure?”

“Please don’t talk about him.  If he thinks he’s going to lay down the law to me he’ll find his mistake; and it’s better he should find it out before it’s too late.”

They were interrupted by the entrance of Patty’s amorous uncle, who returned from his billiards earlier than usual to-day.  He scowled at the stranger, but passed into the house without speaking.  Hilliard spoke a hurried word or two about Eve and went his way.

Something less than a week after this he chanced to be away from home throughout the whole day, and on returning he was surprised to see a telegram upon his table.  It came from Patty Ringrose, and asked him to call at the shop without fail between one and two that day.  The hour was now nearly ten; the despatch had arrived at eleven in the morning.

Without a minute’s delay he ran out in search of a cab, and was driven to High Street.  Here, of course, he found the shop closed, but it was much too early for the household to have retired to rest; risking an indiscretion, he was about to ring the house bell when the door opened, and Patty showed herself.

“Oh, is it you, Mr. Hilliard!” she exclaimed, in a flurried voice.  “I heard the cab stop, and I thought it might be——­You’d better come in—­quick!”

He followed her along the passage and into the shop, where one gas-jet was burning low.

“Listen!” she resumed, whispering hurriedly.  “If Eve comes—­she’ll let herself in with the latchkey—­you must stand quiet here.  I shall turn out the gas, and I’ll let you out after she’s gone upstairs?  Couldn’t you come before?”

Hilliard explained, and begged her to tell him what was the matter.  But Patty kept him in suspense.

“Uncle won’t be in till after twelve, so there’s no fear.  Aunt has gone to bed—­she’s upset with quarrelling about this marriage.  Mind!  You won’t stir if Eve comes in.  Don’t talk loud; I must keep listening for the door.”

“But what is it?  Where is Eve?”

“I don’t know.  She didn’t come home till very late last night, and I don’t know where she was.  You remember what you asked me to promise?”