A charwoman from Sale Street came in to scrub floors, to see to fireplaces, and to renovate apartments generally--a slow worker, on account of some affection of the heart, but an uncommonly good talker. When human intercourse failed she addressed articles of furniture, asking them how much they cost originally, and, sarcastically, whether they were under the impression that they looked as good as new; to some she gave the assurance that if she were to meet them at a jumble sale, she would pass by without a second glance. The charwoman suggested, at the completion of her task, and rolling up her square mat with the care of one belonging to an Oriental sect, that her help should be engaged for the party; Mrs. Mills replied that if they required help, some one of more active methods and of less years would be approached. "Right you are!" she said, taking her money from the counter. "In that case, I'll send along my Sarah." To suit the young hostess, and to meet the convenience of one or two of the guests, the party began at an hour that was quite fashionably late. Miss Radford came early, excusing herself for this breach of decorum on the grounds that it made her painfully nervous to enter a room when strangers were present; apart from which, to arrive in good time meant that one had a chance of looking at oneself in the mirror. Did Gertie consider that her (Miss Radford's) complexion was showing signs of going off? A lady friend, who, from the description given, seemed to be neither a friend nor a lady, had mentioned that Miss Radford was beginning to look her full age; and remarks of this kind might be contradicted but could not be ignored. "Don't you ever get anxious about your personal appearance?" she inquired. "Not specially." "I suppose," agreed Miss Radford, "that being properly engaged does make you a bit less anxious." Clarence came with Miss Loriner, and the young hostess flushed at the young woman's first words. Henry sent his best regards. Henry, it appeared, no longer spent week-ends at Ewelme--this because of some want of agreement with Lady Douglass; and he was now busy in connection with a sanatorium at Walton-on-Naze, which demanded frequent journeys from Liverpool Street. Gertie, in taking Miss Loriner to get rid of hat and dust-cloak in the adjoining room, felt it good to find herself remembered. Miss Loriner wanted a small fan, and searching the hand-bag which she had brought, first looked puzzled, and then became enlightened. "I've brought Lady Douglass's bag by mistake," she cried, self-reproachfully. "Here are her initials in the corner--'M. D.'; not 'M. L.'" Miss Loriner gave an ejaculation. "What is it you've found there?" "This," announced the other deliberately, "is the missing key of the billiard-room at Morden Place!" The two girls looked at each other, and Gertie nodded. "I've been blaming her brother all along for that trick."