"Now, look ’ere," he exclaimed indignantly, when he was sufficiently recovered from the suddenness of this outrage to resume an upright position, "you must drop it! Pop off! I won’t ’ave it! If I ketch ’old of either of you--if I ketch--all right, say no more about it! I believe that little girl ’as got the evil eye," he muttered weakly to himself. Mr. Stillbottle’s nerves were not in good order, and The Cure had regarded him with unwinking steadfastness for something like five minutes. "Go and play over there," he urged, almost piteously, "and let me do my job. Now, where was I? Ho, yes--the pianner." He submitted that venerable instrument to a further scrutiny. "_Collard and Collard_," he observed. ("A very appropriate title, too, for this ’ouse!) Date, about seventy-four or five, I should say." He lifted the lid and struck a few inharmonious chords. "Not been tooned since bought. Loud pedal broke, and ivories off three keys. Mouse-’ole in the back. Say thirty-five bob, or two p--Will you _drop_ it?" Mr. Stillbottle made this request from the floor, upon which he had suddenly adopted a recumbent attitude. The Caution and the Cure, having decided to initiate their idol into what they had always considered the most consummate jest in existence, had placed a heavy footstool close behind his heels; and Mr. Stillbottle, stepping back a pace in order to view the _tout ensemble_ of the piano, had carried the joke to a successful and rapturous conclusion. Amid appreciative shrieks of merriment from the twins, their fermenting playfellow rose solemnly to his feet, and was pausing dramatically for the double purpose of recovering his breath and deciding upon an effective scheme of reprisal, when he became aware that the door was open and that the master of the house was smilingly contemplating the entertainment. "You three appear to be having a romp," said Mr. Welwyn genially. "You are evidently a lover of children, Mr. Stillbottle!" Fortunately for the delicate ears of The Caution and The Cure, Mr. Stillbottle was still incapable of utterance. By the time that his two admirers had been escorted to the door by their progenitor and bidden to return to their own place, his power of speech had returned; but perceiving that the time for explanation was now past, the misjudged romper decided to postpone the refutation of the libel until some other occasion. "Be seated, Mr. Stillbottle," said Mr. Welwyn politely. Mr. Stillbottle selected the sofa, which it will be remembered had been marked as high as one pound fifteen. "I hope you had a comfortable dinner," continued Mr. Welwyn. "Thank you," replied Mr. Stillbottle briefly--"I ’ad." Mr. Welwyn produced half-a-sovereign. "I make a point of being punctilious over money matters," he said, handing the coin to the broker’s man. "When our little--er--contract has been carried to a successful conclusion I shall be happy to hand you another." Mr. Stillbottle pocketed the money.