Flower, putting the best face he could upon it, assented with a tender smile, and, following them downstairs, held a long argument with Mrs. Chiffers as to the amount due, that lady having ideas upon the subject which did more credit to her imagination than her arithmetic. The bill was settled at last, and the little party standing on the steps waited for the return of Miss Chiffers, who had been dispatched for a four-wheeler. “Oh, what about your luggage, Fred?” enquired Miss Tipping, suddenly. “Haven’t got any,” said Flower, quickly. “I managed to get away with what I stand up in, and glad to do that.” Miss Tipping squeezed his arm and leaned heavily upon his shoulder. “I was very lucky to get off as I did,” continued the veracious mariner. “I wasn’t touched except for a rap over my foot with the butt-end of a revolver. I was just over the wall in time.” “Poor fellow,” said Miss Tipping, softly, as she shivered and looked up into his face. “What are you grinning at, Dick?” “I s’pose a fellow may grin if he likes,” said Mr. Tipping, suddenly becoming serious. “This is the first bit of happiness I’ve had since I saw you last,” murmured Flower. Miss Tipping squeezed his arm again. “It seems almost too good to be true,” he continued. “I’m almost afraid I shall wake up and find it all a dream.” “Oh, you’re wide-awake enough,” said Mr. Tipping. “Wide-awake ain’t the word for it,” said the other gentleman, shaking his head. “Uncle,” said Miss Tipping, sharply. “Yes, my dear,” said the other, uneasily. “Keep your remarks for those that like them,” said his dutiful niece, “or else get out and walk.” Mr. Porson, being thus heckled, subsided into defiant mutterings, intended for Dick Tipping’s ear alone, and the remainder of the drive to Chelsea passed almost in silence. Arrived at the Blue Posts, Flower got out with well-simulated alacrity, and going into the bar, shook hands heartily with Mrs. Tipping before she quite knew what he was doing. “You’ve got him, then,” she said, turning to her daughter, “and now I hope you’re satisfied. Don’t stand in the bar; I can’t say what I want to say here—come in the parlour and shut the door.” They followed the masterful lady obediently into the room indicated. “And now, Mr. Robinson,” she said, with her hands on her hips, “now for your explanation.” “I have explained to Matilda,” said Flower, waving his hand. “That’s quite right, mar,” said Miss Tipping, nodding briskly. “He’s had a dreadful time, poor feller,” said Dick Tipping, unctuously. “He’s been hunted all over England by—who was it, Mister Robinson?” “The parties I’m working against,” said Flower, repressing his choler by a strong effort. “The parties he’s working against,” repeated Mr. Tipping. “Somebody ought to talk to them parties,” said Mr. Porson, speaking with much deliberation, “that is, if they can find ’em.” “They want looking after, that’s what they want,” said Dick Tipping, with a leer.