“Yes, I have,” said Mr. Fraser, calmly. “I wanted—” But Miss Tyrell had gone quietly upstairs, leaving him to gaze in a perturbed fashion at the sickly and somewhat malicious face on the sofa. “What’s the matter?” he enquired. “Nothing,” said Mrs. Wheeler. “Isn’t Miss Tyrell well?” “So far as I’m permitted to know the state of ’er ’ealth, she is,” was the reply. “Mr. Wheeler well?” enquired Fraser, after a long pause. “Very well, I thank you,” said Mrs. Wheeler. “And Miss Wheeler, and Bob, and the whole pa—— and all of them?” said Fraser. “All very well,” said Mrs. Wheeler. His stock of conversation being exhausted he sat glancing uncomfortably round the littered room, painfully conscious that Mrs. Wheeler was regarding him with a glance that was at once hostile and impatient. While he was wondering whether Miss Tyrell had gone upstairs for a permanency, he heard her step on the stairs, and directly afterwards she appeared at the door with her hat and jacket on. “Good-bye, Mrs. Wheeler,” she said, gravely. “Good-bye,” said Mrs. Wheeler, in the same way that a free-speaking woman would have said “Good-riddance.” The girl’s eyes rested for a moment on Fraser. Then she bade him good-bye, and, opening the door, passed into the street. Fraser looked at Mrs. Wheeler in perplexity, then, jumping up suddenly as Poppy passed the window, he crossed to the door. “Good-bye, Mrs. Wheeler,” he shouted, and, vaguely conscious that something was wrong somewhere, dashed off in pursuit. Poppy Tyrell, her face pale and her eyes burning, quickened her pace as she heard hurrying footsteps behind her. “I just wanted a few words with you, Miss Tyrell,” said Fraser, somewhat breathlessly. “I—I am going on business,” said Poppy, in a quiet voice. “I didn’t understand Mrs. Wheeler just now,” said Fraser. “I hope you didn’t mind my calling?” “Oh, no,” said the girl; “call as often as you like, but this evening I’m busy. Come to-morrow.” This hospitality over-reached itself. “Have you left the Wheelers?” he enquired, suddenly. “Yes,” said Poppy, simply. “What’s the good of telling me to call, then?” enquired Fraser, bluntly. “They will be pleased to see you, I’m sure,” said Miss Tyrell. “Where are you going?” asked Fraser. Miss Tyrell made no reply, except to favour him with a glance which warned him not to repeat the question, and he walked beside her for some time in silence. “Good-bye,” she said, suddenly. “I’m not going,” said Fraser, with artless surprise. “Mr. Fraser,” said the girl, reddening with anger, “will you please understand that I wish to be alone?” “No,” said Mr. Fraser, doggedly. “A gentleman would not have to have half as much said to him,” said Poppy, trembling. “Well, thank God, I’m not a gentleman,” said Fraser, calmly. “If I had a father or a brother you would not behave like this,” said the girl.