The assiduity with which John Bradfield tended his old friend was wonderful. It was remarked that he scarcely let anybody else go near him; that he slept in Marrable’s room, and even served him with his own hands. It escaped remark that on rare occasions when John Bradfield did leave the apartment of his friend, he took care first to send Stelfox out on some errand which would take a considerable time to execute. Mr. Bradfield’s doubts of Stelfox’s trustworthiness were increasing. Taking the bull by the horns, as his custom was when hard pressed, Mr. Bradfield took the servant severely to task for suffering Mr. Richard to get loose again, and ended by threatening him with instant dismissal if it should occur again. At this Stelfox looked up. “Do you mean that, sir?” “I do, indeed.” “And what--what, sir, would you do with Mr. Richard, if you did send me away?” There was some spirit in the servant’s question; there was more in the master’s answer: “That’s my business!” And Stelfox, with a glance at his master’s resolute face, made submission. The day following the accident being Boxing-day, Mrs. Graham-Shute asked and obtained permission from her host to extend her visit, and that of her family, until the day after. It was impossible to go out, much less to travel, on such a day as that, she said. In spite of this impossibility, however, Mrs. Graham-Shute stayed out nearly the whole of the morning, looking for a suitable house in which she could settle with her family, to fulfil her kind promise of “looking after dear cousin John.” Of course, it was the worst day she could have chosen for her expedition, as the agents’ offices were closed, and the caretakers were making a holiday. But, being a woman of great valour and determination, just when these qualities were unnecessary and inconvenient, she ferreted out the unhappy agents, and made them unlock their books for her benefit, and she chivied the caretakers away from their dinners to attend her over the empty houses, only to declare at the end of the day’s work that she had never met such an uncivil set of people in her life--never! Mrs. Graham-Shute found, moreover, cause of bitter complaint in other directions. The rents were absurdly high, for one thing. She had imagined that in a hole of a place like this you would be able to pick up a house, with thirteen rooms and a nice garden, for next to nothing. Indeed, to hear her talk, one would have imagined that she looked upon the honour done to a dwelling by her residence within its walls as an equivalent to rent and taxes. The poor lady was quite hurt at the local ingratitude. It was enough, as she said at luncheon-time, to the amusement of dear cousin John, to make one stay in town.