"How did you know I was staying here?" he said, more quietly. "How did I know that you lived here!" laughed the woman; "you told me-- at least, you took care to drop one of your cards one day, and to sign the cheque one day as Richard Pellet. Of course, when it was money, I wanted to know which was right--Herrisey or Pellet. It didn't much matter to me, but I thought I'd know while I was about it. You may call yourself Smith if you like." Richard Pellet glared at the woman, as he thought of the trouble he had been at to keep a little separate banking account solely for this purpose, and then, unknown to himself, force of habit had made him make one payment according to custom. He was at the woman's mercy, in spite of the precautions he thought he had taken, and no doubt she knew the whole of his affairs. Well, money would buy her, he thought; and then he was brought back from his short musing by the woman's hard voice. "If you choose to be mean, you must put up with the consequences; and what's more, you ought to thank and pay me for coming to put you on your guard." "Do you think she--she knows that I live here?" said Richard, in a hoarse whisper. The woman smiled contemptuously, as she replied-- "No, she don't know it, poor mad thing! at least, I don't think so. She kept to the name, too, right enough, and wouldn't answer to the name of Pellet." "Of course not," exclaimed Richard, fiercely; and then the two stood gazing in each other's eyes for a minute before the woman spoke, saying, maliciously-- "Perhaps she may find her way here though, after all; these mad folks are very cunning when they are after anything." "Here! go now," exclaimed Richard, hurriedly thrusting some money into the woman's hands. "You must not give her up, Mrs Walls. We'll make a fresh settlement, and--and we'll talk it over to-morrow when I come." The woman smiled as she made her way out of the library, and Richard Pellet stood for a few moments wiping the cold dew from his forehead, before rejoining his guests. The city gentlemen heard no more that night respecting limited liability companies, when, after giving the strictest orders that, if anybody else should come, _she_ was to be shown into the library, Richard Pellet returned to the assembled company, and took coffee, unaware that the two gentlemen in coach-lace had thrust their tongues into their cheeks at one another, after a fashion meant to express the extreme of derision; and then, as soon as they were at liberty, went and related the affair in large text, with redundant flourishes, in the servants' hall. "If she had chosen any other day it would not so much have mattered," said Richard Pellet to himself, as he probed a lump of sugar at the bottom of his half-cold coffee: "but to have come to-day!"