"Wish I wur going," Bessie murmured.

"Surely you are not going to take all those things!" George exclaimed, indicating a teaset, dinner service, and a quant.i.ty of art pottery.

"That's what I tells her. She don't want all them things away with her,"

cried Bessie.

"I don't like leaving them behind--wi' thieves breaking into the house to steal. I ha' lost enough already," said Kezia plaintively.

This was a fortunate remark, as it disconcerted Bessie and put a stop to questions, while at the same time it removed her suspicions. It was not surprising that Kezia should wish to take away as much treasure as possible. She would have done the same herself. Still, she did not like to see that dinner service go out of the house. Robert had been about to move that.

"How long be 'em going away for, Mr. George?" she asked presently, when Kezia had gone to gather up more of her possessions.

"That depends on the weather," came the diplomatic answer.

Packing continued steadily: boxes, crates, and hampers were piled up in the hall awaiting transport; Kezia had been prevented from leaking; Miss Yard continually inquired whether the railway was quite finished.

The calm of exhaustion prevailed, when there came a defiant knock upon the front door, and the bell rang like a fire alarm.

"It must be a telegram," said George gravely.

"I hope nothing has happened to Mr. and Mrs. Taverner," said Nellie.

"Why shouldn't something happen to them?" George muttered.

"What do they say? Is there any hope?" cried Miss Yard.

"We don't know anything yet," replied Nellie.

"The railway has gone wrong. I was afraid it would--they were so venturesome. You were reading about letters coming without wires."

"Telegrams," corrected Nellie, listening to the voices outside.

"Yes, the postmen are very wonderful. You said they were using the stuff we eat in puddings, tapioca--or was it macaroni?"

"You mean Marconi wireless messages, Aunt," said George.

"I always mean what I say," replied the lady curtly.

In the meantime Kezia and Bessie had advanced together, preparing themselves to face the police inspector, but hoping it would be nothing worse than the tax collector. Bessie opened the door, while Kezia sidled behind her. The next moment they both groaned with horror.

"Is Miss Blisland in?" asked a pert young voice.

"She might be," replied Bessie hoa.r.s.ely.

"Ask her please if she'll come out and speak to me."

"Oh, my dear, shut the door and bolt it!" Kezia whispered.

This was done, and they presented themselves in the parlour with woeful faces.

"It's her!" Bessie announced. "She wants to see you. She's standing on our doorstep!"

"Who?" cried Nellie.

"The last of 'em--the one that come yesterday. She didn't tell us her name."

"She's ashamed of it," said Kezia.

"Perhaps Mr. George'll go and send her off," suggested Bessie.

"Who are you talking about?" asked Nellie impatiently.

"The wench from Black Anchor. She ain't no more than a child, but the way her stared on us wur awful."

"Sent a shiver through me--so bold and daring!" Kezia added.

"Miss Teenie, is it?" George muttered. "Sit down, Nellie; I'll go and talk to her."

"I can do my own business, thanks," said Nellie, going towards the door.

"I'll come with you anyhow," he said.

"You will do nothing of the kind," replied the young lady coldly.

Out she went, while Miss Yard stood trembling on the hearthrug, and Bessie listened at the keyhole, and Kezia sniffed beside the window.

George was trying to persuade himself that no young woman would venture to trifle with his n.o.ble nature.

"Is it very bad?" asked Miss Yard.

"Yes, miss," replied Bessie. "She's brought her in--she's taken her into the dining room--she's shut the door. Oh, Miss, they're laughing!"

"I never did think Miss Nellie would go like this," Kezia lamented.

"She was here just now," said Miss Yard simply.

"Yes, miss, but she's gone now--gone to the bad."

"What's it all about?" asked the old lady, appealing to George who seemed to be the only comforter.

"I am sorry to say Nellie has got into bad company--into the very worst company--and we shall have to be very stern with her."

"Yes, indeed we must, or she will lose all her money. I know what these companies are. I get a lot of circulars, and I always tell Nellie she is to burn them," said Miss Yard in sore distress.

"Just listen to 'em talking!" cried Bessie.

"I can't abear much more," Kezia wailed.

The next minute Miss Yard was struggling towards the door, rejecting the advice of George, pushing aside the arms of Bessie; declaring that n.o.body should prevent her from dragging Nellie out of the pit of financial ruin. She stumbled across the hall, banged at the door of the dining room until it was opened to her; and then came silence, but presently the old lady's queer voice could be heard distinctly, and after that her bursts of merry laughter. Miss Yard had fallen into this very worst company herself. Kezia and Bessie crept silently toward the kitchen. The whole house was polluted. George searched for flies to kill.