They all became much interested in this subject, and even Erb put some elucidating questions. Louisa looked admiringly at her tall sister as Alice went from this to the subject of visitors to Eaton Square: young Lady Frances, it seemed, occasionally gave mixed dinners, where no one knew anybody else, and even Lady Frances herself did not insist on previous acquaintance: the passport to these was notoriety. From this subject to the servants’ coming party of the following Thursday week was an easy stage. Thursday had been selected to fit the convenience of certain visitors whose establishments on that day closed early. “Another foot or so,” said Louisa gazing up at her sister, “and _I_ might ’ave been in your shoes.” “Height isn’t the only thing required. We shall be rather short of gentlemen, by the bye.” “I can quite understand that.” “I suppose, Erb,” said Alice to her brother doubtfully, “you wouldn’t care to come if I got you an invite? If you did, you’d have to remember that I told them you were an inspector: you mustn’t make me look like a story-teller.” “Not much in my line,” growled Erb. “Besides, I’ve got a big job coming on that I mustn’t tell you anything further about jest now.” “I’d get you asked, Louisa,” she said candidly to her short sister, “if you looked better than you do. I don’t think your work does you any good.” “I’m not in it for me health,” retorted the other, her head giving its involuntary shake. “I’ve advised her to try something else,” agreed Erb, walking up and down the room. “She’s only a bit of a girl, and the circumstances under which our female workers are compelled to carry on their duties amount to a species of white slavery which would not be tolerated in Russia.” “Loud cheers!” commented Louisa. “It’s about time my young man was ’ere. If he can’t keep his appointments I shall have to talk to him straight.” As though in answer to this threat a loud single knock came at the door. “Let him wait a bit,” said Louisa. “Do him good.” Another knock came and the girl went to the door to upbraid the caller for unmannerly impatience. She withdrew her head quickly. “It’s Payne,” she announced to her brother. “Deuce it is!” said Erb with excitement. In the passage stood a man with a stiff, short, red beard, his upper lip shaven; near to him, a newer arrival, a nervous youth, with a wired flower in his coat, who asked shyly whether Miss Barnes happened by any chance to be at home. “Trot in,” said Erb, jerking his head. The nervous youth took off his hat and obeyed. “Well, Payne, old man,” said Erb to the other. “I’ve won the three old ’uns over,” whispered the man with the red beard. “Good on you!” “They’ll sign to-morrow.” “And if the answer ain’t satisfactory?” “Then,” said Payne in an undertone, with his hand guarding the words at his mouth, “then they’ll follow our lead.” “And strike?” “And strike!” said Payne. CHAPTER II