"I'll not come away," said Mrs. Colwyn, thickly. "I want some money--money--send Ph[oe]be for a drop o' gin----" "I'll go, my dear Miss Colwyn," said Lady Ashley, kindly. She was touched by the despair in Janetta's face. "I can't do any good, I am afraid. You shall hear from me again. Don't come to the door. Shall I send my servants to you?" "Who's that? Who's that?" screamed the half-maddened woman, beginning to fling herself wildly out of Janetta's restraining arms. "Let me get at her, you bad girl! letting people into my house----" "Can you manage? Do you want help?" said Lady Ashley, quickly. "No, no, nothing; I can manage if you will only please go," Janetta cried, in her desperation. And Lady Ashley, seeing that her departure was really wished for, hurried from the house. And Janetta, after some wrestling and coaxing and argument, at last succeeded in putting her stepmother to bed, and then sat down and wept heartily. What would Lady Ashley think? And how could she now recommend pupils to go to a house where a drunken woman was liable at any moment to appear upon the scene? As a matter of fact, this was just what Lady Ashley was saying at that moment to her son. "She is a thorough little gentlewoman, Philip, and a good musician; but, with _such_ a connection, how can I send any one to the house?" "It was unlucky, certainly," said Sir Philip, "but you must remember that you came unexpectedly. Her pupils' hours will be guarded, most probably, from interruption." "One could never be sure. I have been thinking of sending Miss Bevan to her. But suppose a _contretemps_ of this kind occurred! Poor Mary Bevan would never get over it." "It is her stepmother, not her own mother," said Sir Philip, after a little pause. "Not that that makes it much better for her, poor little thing!" "I assure you, Philip, it went to my heart to see that fragile girl struggling with that big woman. I would have helped her, but she entreated me to go, and so I came away. What else could I do?" "Nothing, I suppose. There may be murder committed in that house any day, if this state of things goes on." Lady Ashley sighed. Sir Philip walked about the room, with his hands in his pockets and his head bent on his breast. "Margaret Adair had been there to-day," said his mother, watching him. Sir Philip looked up. "Why?" he said, keenly. "To take a singing lesson. She had brought flowers. Miss Colwyn spoke of her very warmly, and when I touched on the subject of Miss Polehampton's treatment, would not allow that Margaret had anything to do with it. She is a very faithful little person, I should think." "Far more generous than Margaret," muttered her son. Then, sombrely, "I never told you what happened at Helmsley Court the other day. Margaret refused me." "Refused you--entirely?" "No appeal possible." "On what grounds?" "Chiefly, I think, because I wanted her to make reparation to Miss Colwyn." "Then, Philip, she is not worthy of you."