"And send the Misses Dixon into the study." "You've done it, Mr. 'arland!" "Done what, sir?" "They've 'eard you--I'll bet my boots they 'ave." Mr. Harland turned again and shouted, "Tell your mistress at once that Mr. Bindon's here!" "They're coming!" "How dare you, sir, try to shut the door in my face!" "They're coming, Mr. 'arland! They'll murder me! You've spilt the cart!" Mr. Bindon's agitation was extreme. There was a rush of feet along the passage, a sound of many skirts. A whirlwind of excited women dashed through the study door. "Where's Mr. Bindon?" cried Louisa Brown--that was. "I see him! He's underneath the table!" "Fetch him out!" exclaimed the thick-set woman. They fetched him. IV. The procession left Mulberry House in the following order: the first fly contained all that was left of Mr. Bindon. The seats were occupied by four ladies--excited ladies. Mr. Bindon--all, we repeat, that was left of him--stood up between the four. He had not much standing room. Around the first fly circled a crowd of boys. The crowd consisted of twelve--twelve sons! They hurrahed and shouted, they jumped and ran. Their proceedings gave to the procession an air of triumph. Eight young ladies walked beside the fly, the driver of which had received instructions not to proceed above a walking pace. These young ladies wept. The second fly contained seven ladies, five inside and two upon the box. The language of these ladies was both fluent and fervid. They beguiled the tedium of the way by making personal remarks which must have been distinctly audible to at least one person in the fly in front. This person was kept in a perpendicular position by the points of four umbrellas. "I hope," observed Mrs. Harland, when the procession had started, "that they won't murder him." "I don't think you need be afraid of that, my love. They will merely escort him back, in the bosom of his family, to the City of the Saints." Mr. Harland examined a cheque, which was written in a trembling hand, and the ink on which was scarcely dry. And the procession passed from sight. A Burglar Alarm I must confess that the idea appealed to Leila more strongly than it did to me. I do not deny that it struck me as original. But it does not follow that because an idea is original it is of much practical value. Leila thought that it was just the thing which was wanted to calm her condition of nervous disquietude. So, of course, I said nothing.