On the day following this, when she was sitting up in her bedroom, Mrs Protheroe came to her, dressed in wonderful habiliments. She wore a dark-blue bonnet, filled all round with yellow flowers, and a spotted silk dress, of which the prevailing colour was scarlet. She was going, she said, to St Mary-le-Strand, "to be made Mrs Buggins of." She tried to carry it off with bravado when she entered the room, but she left it with a tear in her eye, and a whimper in her throat. "To be sure, I'm an old woman," she said before she went. "Who has said that I ain't? Not I; nor yet Buggins. We is both of us old. But I don't know why we is to be desolate and lonely all our days, because we ain't young. It seems to me that the young folks is to have it all to themselves, and I'm sure I don't know why." Then she went, clearly resolved, that as far as she was concerned, the young people shouldn't have it all to themselves; and as Buggins was of the same way of thinking, they were married at St Mary-le-Strand that very morning. And this marriage would have been of no moment to us or to our little history, had not Mr Maguire chosen that morning, of all mornings in the year, to call on Miss Mackenzie in Arundel Street. He had obtained her address--of course, from Miss Colza; and, not having been idle the while in pushing his inquiries respecting Miss Mackenzie's affairs, had now come to Arundel Street to carry on the battle as best he might. Margaret was still in her room as he came, and as the girl could not show the gentleman up there, she took him into an empty parlour, and brought the tidings up to the lodger. Mr Maguire had not sent up his name; but a personal description by the girl at once made Margaret know who was there. "I won't see him," said she, with heightened colour, grieving greatly that the strong-minded Hannah Protheroe,--or Buggins, as it might probably be by that time,--was not at home. "Martha, don't let him come up. Tell him to go away at once." After some persuasion, the girl went down with the message, which she softened to suit her own idea of propriety. But she returned, saying that the gentleman was very urgent. He insisted that he must see Miss Mackenzie, if only for an instant, before he left the house. "Tell him," said Margaret, "that nothing shall induce me to see him. I'll send for a policeman. If he won't go when he's told, Martha, you must go for a policeman." Martha, when she heard that, became frightened about the spoons and coats, and ran down again in a hurry. Then she came up again with a scrap of paper, on which a few words had been written with a pencil. This was passed through a very narrow opening in the door, as Margaret stood with it guarded, fearing lest the enemy might carry the point by an assault. "You are being robbed," said the note, "you are, indeed,--and my only wish is to protect you."