"Ah, letters?" She banged an iron about a shirt with double cuffs; perturbed as he was, he shuddered to see the havoc she was wreaking. "Mees Lascelles 'as writ me a post carte--she ask if 'er letters come, I send 'em on. I zink she gives up ze _théâtre_, I zink she takes a situation wiz a lady of title. Julie!" she called; "zat letter zat come yesterday for Mees Lascelles, it go to ze post, hein?" "J'-n'-sais-_pas_!" called Julie. She sent a button flying off a waistcoat without turning a hair. "Ameliarran?" "Yes'm?" "Ze letter for Mees Lascelles, where ees it?" "There yer are!" replied "Ameliar Ann." She was sewing a red cotton hieroglyphic into a customer's "tying bow"--near one of the ends. Her nod indicated a shelf piled with packages, and Conrad perceived his letter lying neglected among the washing. "Ah," said Madame Hermiance. "Alors, I post it to-night myself." "But this is no trifling matter," exclaimed Conrad, trembling with rage. "Miss Lascelles may lose a very large salary through this. That's a business letter--from an impresario. It should have been forwarded without delay." "Tiens!" said Madame Hermiance calmly. "Julie! pack up ze collars." He tramped across the shop, and the three girls' heads turned to the left. This much was certain: Rosalind had said that she and Tattie would be together. Sheer babble, that about the situation! If the note reached Tattie at once, there was hope yet. He strode back, and the three girls' heads turned to the right. "Madame!" "Monsieur?" "I must apologise for occupying your time, but----" "Ça ne fait rien," said the laundress. "Julie! pack up ze shirts." "But I want you to do me a kindness--I want you to be good enough to send the letter to Miss Lascelles now, by a messenger. I suppose it won't take very long?" "Mais, monsieur, I 'ave nobody to send." "Well, but my dear lady," he said--and talked to her persuasively of paying for the service and the hansom that was outside. "Alors!" said Madame Hermiance. Expectancy bubbled in him anew. He would scrawl a line explaining what he had suffered, beseeching Rosalind to meet him still! Would Madame have the kindness to provide him with an envelope? It was provided. And a sheet of note-paper? he was abased by the trouble he was causing her. Alas! her note-paper was not in the shop, but she could offer him a price-list--it was very long, and the back was blank. This was no moment to finick; the case was urgent. He put his foot on a laundry basket, and the price-list on his knee; and at the back of "Blouses," "Bodices" and "White petticoats from 6d," he pencilled his appeal.