'I hope he isn't the fat man who has lost his wig,' Annie murmured under her breath. 'I don't know which of those gentlemen is coming here. For all I know it may be the policeman,' Kate added maliciously. 'Don't say that, Mrs. Ede!' Annie exclaimed. Kate smiled at the children's earnestness, and, wishing to keep up the joke, said: 'You know, my dear, they are only sham policemen, and I dare say are very nice gentlemen in reality.' Annie and Lizzie hung down their heads; it was evident they had no sympathies with policemen, not even with sham ones. 'But if it isn't a policeman, who would you like it to be, Lizzie?' said Kate. 'Oh, the man in the cocked hat,' replied Lizzie without hesitation. 'And you, Annie?' Annie looked puzzled, and after a moment said with a slight whimper: 'Lizzie always takes what I want--I was just going--' 'Oh yes, miss, we know all about that,' returned Lizzie derisively. 'Annie never can choose for herself; she always tries to imitate me. She'll have the man who's lost his wig! Oh yes, yes! Isn't it so, Mrs. Ede? Isn't Annie going to marry the man who's lost his wig?' Tears trembled in Annie's eyes, but as she happened at that moment to catch sight of the young man in white, she declared triumphantly that she would choose him. 'Well done, Annie!' said Kate, laughing as she patted the child's curls, but her eyes fell on the neglected apron, and seeing how crookedly it was being hemmed, she said: 'Oh, my dear, this is very bad; you must go back, undo all you have done this morning, and get it quite straight.' She undid some three or four inches of the sewing, and then showed the child how the hem was to be turned in, and while she did so a smile hovered round the corners of her thin lips, for she was thinking of the new lodger, asking herself which man in the picture was coming to lodge in her house. Mrs. Ede returned, talking angrily, but Kate could only catch the words 'waiting' and 'breakfast cold' and 'sorry.' At last, out of a confusion of words a reproof broke from her mother-in-law for not having roused her. 'I called and called,' said Kate, 'but nothing would have awakened you.' 'You should have knocked at my door,' Mrs. Ede answered, and after speaking about open house and late hours she asked Kate suddenly what was going to be done about the latchkey. 'I suppose he will have to have his latchkey,' Kate answered. 'I shall not close my eyes,' Mrs. Ede returned, 'until I hear him come into the house. He won't be bringing with him any of the women from the theatre.' Kate assured her that she would make this part of the bargain, and somewhat softened, Mrs. Ede spoke of the danger of bad company, and trusted that having an actor in the house would not be a reason for going to the theatre and falling into idle habits. 'One would have thought that we heard enough of that theatre from Miss Hender,' she interjected, and then lapsed into silence.