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ashamed of you -- you naughty boy!"
    Besides really "wanting to know," Cuffy had thought his question a funny one, which would call forth laughter and applause. He was dumbfounded, and went red to the roots of his hair. What had he said? Why was Mamma so cross? Why was it more wrong for Auntie Agnes to be tight than Lallie or Lucie? -- And now he had made Mamma and Papa cross with each other again, too.
    "It's not repeating kitchen talk that matters, Mary; but that the child should be in the way of hearing it at all."
    "Pray, how can I help it? I do my best; but it's quite impossible for me never to let the children out of my sight. I've told you over and over again they need a governess."
    As the time approached for Mr. Henry's arrival, Agnes grew more and more ill at ease: her tic redoubled in violence; she could settle to nothing, and wandered aimlessly from room to room; while, on receipt of the letter fixing the day, she began openly to shake and tremble. "You won't mention to Henry, Mary . . . I mean . . . oh, love, you understand?" and all Mary's tactful assurances did not quieten her. Her fear of her husband was painful to see; almost equally painful her barefaced relief when, at the eleventh hour, important business cropped up which made it impossible for Mr. Henry to get away.
    "Of course, if things have come to this pass between them, then it's much better they should be separated for a while. But that he can let any business interfere with seeing her off on so long a journey -- well, all I can say is . . ." said Mary; and left the rest of her wrath to the imagination.
    "Tut, tut! . . . when he's got some one here to do his dirty work for him. He probably never had any intention of coming."
    So the two women drove to Sandridge and boarded a sailing-vessel bound for the Cape. The best cabin amidships had been engaged for Agnes, and tastefully furnished. There were flowers in it, and several boxes of biscuits and oranges for the voyage. But Agnes did not so much as look round; she only cried and cried; and, when the time for parting came, threw her arms about Mary and clung to her as if she would never let go. It was, said Mary afterwards, just like seeing a doomed creature off for perdition.
    "I don't believe she'll ever come back. Oh, it's a burning shame! Why couldn't he have put her in a Home?"
    "My dear, that would publish his disgrace to the world. He has chosen the one polite and irreproachable way of getting rid of her . . . without a scandal."
    "You mean . . .? But surely she won't be able to get it on board ship?"
    "If you think that, Mary, you still know next to nothing of the tricks a tippler is up to!" -- And how right he was, was shewn when the cook, in turning out the spare room, came upon a regular nest of bottles -- empty medicine bottles, the dregs of which bespoke their contents -- tucked away inside the first bend of the chimney.
    Mary wrote to Mr. Henry informing him of Agnes's departure, also that the visit had passed off without contretemps: and shortly after, she received the gift of a photograph-album, bound in vellum and stamped in gold with her initials. It was a handsome and costly present. But Mahony waxed bitterly sarcastic over the head of it.
    "An album! . . . a photograph-album! . . . as sole return for the expense we've been put to -- why, cab-hire alone must have run into pounds -- over his wife, whom we did not invite and had no wish to see. Not to speak of the strain the visit has been on you, my dear."
    "But Richard, you wouldn't have had him send us money? -- ask for our bill?" Mary spoke heatedly to hide her own feelings, which were much the same as his. Richard singled out cab-fares; but these were but one item of many. In the course of a long day's shopping Agnes and she had needed lunch and refreshment -- manlike he no doubt imagined them living on air! -- and not infrequently Agnes had fancied some article in a shop where no account was run: none of which extras had been