"Ambrose, I wish you'd remind the clerks to wipe their shoes before they come in. Have you forgotten you promised me we should have a separate door for the warehouse? I've got it on paper. "How nice it is to know that there's nothing serious the matter with Moonlove, isn't it? But I don't know what I should have done this afternoon if that kind Doctor Leer hadn't explained it all to me. How could you run away a second time, Ambrose, and leave me in that state without even fetching my hartshorn? I do think men are so heartless. "What a naughty girl Moonlove is to run away like this! I wonder when they'll find her and bring her back? But it will be nice having her at home this winter, won't it? What a pity Ranulph Chanticleer isn't older, he'd do so nicely for her, wouldn't he? But I suppose Florian Baldbreeches will be just as rich, and he's nearer her age. "Do you think Marigold and Dreamsweet and the rest of them will be shocked by Moonlove's rushing off in this wild way? However, as Dr. Leer said, in his quaint way, girls will be girls. "Oh, Ambrose, do you remember my deer-coloured tuftaffity, embroidered with forget-me-nots and stars? I had it in my bridal chest. Well, I think I shall have it made up for Moonlove. There's nothing like the old silks, or the old dyes either--there were no galls or gum-syrups used in them. You remember my deer-coloured tuftaffity, don't you?" But Master Ambrose could stand it no longer. He sprang to his feet, and cried roughly, "I'll give you a handful of Yeses and Noes, Jessamine, and it'll keep you amused for the rest of the evening sorting them out, and sticking them on to your questions. I'm going out." He would go across to Nat's ... Nat might not be a very efficient Mayor, but he was his oldest friend, and he felt he needed his sympathy. "If ... if any news comes about Moonlove, I'll be over at the Chanticleers. Let me know at once," he called over his shoulder, as he hurried from the room. Yes, he was longing for a talk with Nat. Not that he had any belief in Nat's judgement; but he himself could provide all that was needed. And, apart from everything else, it would be comforting to talk to a man who was in the same boat as himself--if, that is to say, the gossip retailed by Endymion Leer were true. But whether it were true or not Leer was a vulgar fellow, and had had no right to divulge a professional secret. So huge did the events of the day loom in his own mind, that he felt sure of finding their shadow lying over the Chanticleers; and he was prepared to be magnanimous and assure the conscience-stricken Master Nathaniel that though, as Mayor, he may have been a little remiss and slack, nevertheless, he could not, in fairness, be held responsible for the terrible thing that had happened.