Mr. Wycherly sat down on a chair beside his bed immersed in thought. Montagu perched on the rail at the end of the bed and surveyed the street from this eminence. As there were neither curtains nor blinds in the window his view was unimpeded. Edmund walked about the room on his hands till he encountered a tin-tack that the men had left, then he sat on the floor noisily sucking the wounded member. It seemed that his gymnastic exercises had been mentally stimulating, for he took his hand out of his mouth to remark: "What’s ’A High-class Registry Office for servants’?" Mr. Wycherly turned to him in some excitement. "I suppose a place where they keep the names of the disengaged upon their books to meet the needs of those who seek servants. Why? Have you seen one?" Edmund nodded. "Yesterday, in yon street where you went to the bookseller. It was about three doors up, a dingy window with a wire blind and lots of wee cards with ’respectable’ coming over and over again. They were all ’respectable’ whether they were ten pounds or twenty-four. I read them while I was waiting for you." "Dear me, Edmund," exclaimed Mr. Wycherly admiringly, "what an observant boy you are. I’ll go there at once and make inquiries. In the meantime I daresay we could get a charwoman to come in and make up the beds for us, and so move in to-morrow as arranged. They can’t all be very busy yet as the men have not come up." "But there’s only three beds," Edmund objected; "she can’t make them all day." "She can do other things, doubtless," said Mr. Wycherly optimistically; "she’ll need to cook for us and," with a wave of the hand, "dust, you know, and perhaps assist us to unpack some of those cases that are as yet untouched. There are many ways in which she could be most useful." "I’d rather have Swissed it," Edmund murmured sorrowfully. "Shall we come with you?" asked Montagu, who had an undefined feeling that his guardian ought not to be left to do things alone. "No," said Mr. Wycherly, rising hastily. "You might, if you would be so good, find the boxes that contain blankets and sheets and begin unpacking them. I’ll go to that office at once." He hurried away, walking fast through the sunny streets, so strange and yet so familiar, till he came to the window with the wire blind that Edmund had indicated. Here he paused, fixed his eyeglasses firmly on his nose and read the cards exhibited. Alas! they nearly all referred to the needs of the servantless, and only two emanated from handmaidens desirous of obtaining situations. Of these, one was a nursemaid, and the other "as tweeny," a species unknown to Mr. Wycherly, and as her age was only fourteen he did not allow his mind to dwell upon her possibilities. He opened the door and an automatic bell rang loudly. He shut the door, when it rang again, greatly to his distress. He seemed to be making so much noise.